Love Is War
by Raivis-Latvijas
Summary: This is love. This is war. Sweden and Finland are in the midst of a full-scale war, and two lovers are trapped in the middle. They've taken opposite sides. They have to fight eachother. That's what people mean by "Love Is War". SuFin.
1. Pajala

Author's notes: This is a fic I'm writing with another author; Pughugs. We actually wrote all this out a while back. I just completely forgot about it. It's going to be multiple chapters, but I still have some things to finish up before I try to write another chapter of this with Pughugs… I really need to stop getting off task…

oooooooo

I was playing poker with a few men in my squad at a flimsy card table, resting after intense drills and exercises. It was around 9:00 PM, and I for one was tired. I was in a camp that was built just barely on the Finnish side of the border, stuck in my tent until further notice.

My tent harbored a few men and I whom had been put in a single squad, Squad 277. We were a strong group, but I had to admit; I was the weak link. I hadn't even completed my basic training before they put me to action and stationed me here at Leirin Raaka-piiloutua, or in English- Camp Rawhide. There were only 5 Squads of about 10 men stationed at this small camp, but I was still the new guy. Everyone else had been serving in this war since it started a few months back.

Just as I was about to lose about 50 Euros, some static-laced screams and shouts came over the radio. Everyone in Squad 277 looked to the device sitting on the shelf inside our tent.

"Suomen joukkue kaksi-seitsemän-seitsemän, pyydätte apua heti! Otamme huomioon raskaan tulituksen Pajalan pohjoispuolella!" A young man cried out, bullets and tank rounds cutting through from the background.

The highest ranked man in our squad stood from his bunk and grabbed his gun, looked over those of us still sitting at the table.

"Mitä odotatte? Liikettä, miehet!" He demanded. Upon hearing the stern command, we all rushed to gather our equipment. We had been called out from a squad in the municipality of Pajala in Sweden. We had been called into action, into the fight.

We were lead out of the tent into the frosty winter night by our squad's leader after we had gotten what we needed. He approached a commanding officer and saluted, quickly explaining the call over the radio. The officer nodded his head and pointed towards the helicopter pad. Our leader turned to us and motioned for us to follow. We did so, jogging fast behind him to an awaiting transport helicopter.

I seated myself at the side of the helicopter, my Rk 62 Assault Rifle clutched in both hands. I had a nervous feeling in my gut. It was terrifying, and yet my adrenaline was pumping. I felt I was ready for this. But I knew I wasn't. I had never been engaged in a high-risk area like Pajala. Sure, I'd seen a few skirmishes here and there of Swedish squads trying to get past the border, but Pajala was an area everyone knew about. It had been the location of four major battles already, and a newer one had surfaced within the past month. My heart raced at the thought of being in that municipality.

xxxxxxxxx

As we neared a populated area, a loud fwoosh and a trail of smoke appeared, the smoke hanging in the place where our chopper had been. I had no idea what it was from.

"What the hell was that?" One of the soldiers in my squad shouted frantically. I followed the thick, black smoke trail with my eyes, and located the place it had come from. I went wide eyed when a Swedish Soldier appeared from the window of the building I was looking at, an RPG-7 on his shoulder.

"RPG!" I yelled as the Swede on the ground fired again. They were using Rocket-Propelled Grenades... Where the hell had they gotten them? Last time we were updated on the Swedish weapons, they had no RPG's.

We weren't so lucky this time when the RPG came towards us. It struck the tail of the chopper and soon we were in a deadly spin, spiraling towards the ground. I hung on for dear life. This couldn't be the end, could it? I shut my eyes tight, and with a mighty impact to the ground, I was unconscious.

My hearing was the first thing to come back to me as I awoke. I was alive? I could hear rapid gunshots and the clink of the bullets against the metal wreckage presumably around me.

I opened my eyes, noticing the fact that I was inside the charred, destroyed hull of the helicopter. I used what strength I had and crawled on my stomach from the mass of scrap metal. I was soon laying on the frozen ground, and was about to rest a bit, but a loud shout pierced through the noise around and made me jerk my head up.

"Tino! Get up! Get the fuck up!" The man ordered, I stood on shaky legs and looked to the Finn whom had commanded me. He tossed me a pump-action shotgun and pointed towards a half-demolished building.

"Go inside that building, clear out any of those filthy Swedes you find! Do it now!"

I wasn't about to ignore that order, but what he said to describe the Swedes struck my heart like a personal insult.

The man I loved was a Swede. The man I loved was fighting against me. We had taken opposite sides and split. But I knew that we both loved each other.

I swallowed and looked around. The building was about a block away, and in between where I was and where it stood, there were RPG's flying through the air next to bullets and shrapnel.

I bit my lip, took a deep breath, and then broke out into a sprint. I raced toward the building, and I could hear bullets whizzing by me. I reached the door of the half-demolished building and quickly opened it. I shut it behind me once I was in, and once I turned my head back around I was staring right at a man in a torn up uniform. He had a pistol placed right at my face, and was about to pull the trigger.

Without thinking, I fired a shot right into the man's skull with my shotgun. His head was gone, and so was his threat to me. His body fell to the ground with a dull _thud_ and I took a shaky breath. The room around me was dark, and clear of any other Swedes. In front of me was a flight of stairs, obviously my next destination.

I gripped my shotgun and cautiously made my way up the stairs. At the top there was a door, which I opened slowly. When I peeked onto the second floor there were about three Swedish soldiers firing their weapons out a large hole in the wall. They were so preoccupied that they didn't notice me pull this pin on a grenade and roll it by their feet. I ducked behind the door and shielded myself from the blast. A few seconds after it went off I re-entered the room to find the three men blown to shreds on the ground. I nearly gagged.

I shook my head and looked to the other side of the room, where a single unarmed Swedish soldier was. He was standing up straight, his arms up, looking to me with pleading eyes. He was surrendering.

I aimed my shotgun at him and took a deep breath. I had my orders.

_**Bang.**_

I blasted a shot into the man's chest. He fell back, and collapsed to the ground, dead.

I looked around, then noted the fact there was only two stories to this building. I approached the hole in the wall and looked out it. I saw multiple Finnish soldiers behind cover not too far away from the building. I saluted to them to signal that I was on their side, but as I turned around, I was tackled right out the hole in the wall.

I landed with a bone-crushing_ thump_ on the concrete, smacking the back of my head on the cold sidewalk. I looked up at my attacker with blurry eyes, and then gasped.

"…_. B-Berwald…?"_

My love stared down at me; his cerulean-blue eyes were staring right into my violet ones with a scary sort of sadness that I had never seen in him.

He looked up at my comrades then back down to me. Without a word, he stood and rushed off. My fellow Finns shot at him, and I was about to tell them not to, but an intense pain in my back stopped me.

I cried out, rolling over on my stomach and clutching my back. I was most definitely hurt. A medic rushed to me and began to help me up, but the pain was far too much. I collapsed back to the ground, leaving the medic to resort to dragging me to cover.

When the man got me to cover, he laid me down on the sidewalk and told me to stay there until they were able to a get a medical-evacuation chopper to this section of Pajala. I nodded and tried to endure the pain in my upper-back and the back of my head.

Bullets still whizzed by me, even as I lay motionless on the ground. I began to panic as the loyal Finns around me began dropping like flies. The Swedes had gotten reinforcements from what I heard in between the screaming and groaning of injured and dying men.

I was unexpectedly hoisted onto a man's shoulders and carried further down the street to a temporary safety. By far, the pain of being carried was the worse. My back was injured, and the way this guy carried me was just making it worse.

When he set me down against the ruins of what once was a building, and I leaned my head back, gritting my teeth.

While I could, I thought of what had happened.

_Berwald_, the man I loved, the Swedish man I had always loved, had just tackled me out the wall of a two-story building. He could have killed me then and there. He could have grabbed one of the other men's guns and shot me down. But he chose to risk his own safety and tackle me, and keep me alive.

He did still love me, didn't he?

I smiled a bit, staring up at the smoke-filled sky.

As long as he and I were alive, that was all I needed.


	2. Momentary Peace

**A/N: **I finally got around to writing this second chapter on my own since the other author… Well, we've lost contact. But I won't dwell on it. You guys have waited long enough for me to continue this.

Oh, and thank you SomeSnowInShell for the corrections of the Finnish used in the last chapter.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The Swedes eventually overtook the Finnish forces, mainly because they had better weaponry than we did. As they advanced in the uneasy quiet down the street, I played dead, hoping that the Swedish soldiers wouldn't figure out that I was alive. My eyes were oh-so slightly opened, so I could still somewhat see what was going on.

Four ski-masked Swedes were checking the bodies, taking ammunition and grenades, and kicking those they thought were still alive. One unlucky Finn was alive, and grunted as he was hit, only to receive a bullet to the head. I held back a gasp, trying hard to remain still. I didn't want to end up like my fellow Finn.

When the Swede who had shot the other injured Finn approached me, I forced myself to remain calm. I held my breath, going completely limp, playing the best dead guy I could possibly play. The man crouched down and placed two fingers on my neck, checking for a pulse.

_Oh. Shit._ I couldn't stop my heartbeat obviously, and my pulse was erratic. I could feel it. I soon found myself with a pistol pressed to my forehead, and that's when I sprung to life. My eyes opened wide and the adrenaline started pumping. I forgot all about my injured back and what was most likely a concussion, and quickly smacked the gun right out of the man's hand. He shouted in protest, and before he could go for another weapon, I lurched forward, tackling him. My back cracked in an extremely painful way, but it didn't stop me. I had one thing on my mind. _To get out alive._

Within seconds, the tussle was over, due to the fact that the three other Swedes had their guns pointed at me. After I stepped off the other man and backed away slowly, the one who seemed to be in charge approached slowly, his eyes hidden behind black ski goggles. He grabbed the front of my uniform and leaned in to speak in my ear.

"_Tino, 'm sorry."_

I gasped and went wide-eyed. It was Berwald behind that ski mask and goggles.

"B-Berwald… I-I'll always forgive you… N-No matter what." I muttered.

"I kno'… But this'll hurt…" He replied quietly.

"D-Do what you have t-to do…" I said. He nodded a bit then slammed me up against the side of a building. I cried out in pain. My back was sure going through hell.

Berwald let one of his hands slide down to his hip, retrieving a pistol. He placed it under my chin, and tears welled up in my eyes. He wouldn't shoot me, would he?

I felt slightly relieved as his hand shakily lowered, placing the gun back in its holster.

"What're you doing, Oxensteirna? Shoot him!" One of the other Swedes shouted at my lover. Berwald turned to face them, still holding me up against the wall.

"He'll b' a good source of Finnish intell'gence. We'll keep him to translate Finnish radio stations 'nd messages." He responded.

"But that's not our orders! You said it yourself; shoot any injured Finns we come across!"

"Now m' orders are to capture, n't kill."

"But sir, we-"

"Enough, private. Y' don't have a say 'n this."

"But-" Berwald grabbed his pistol yet again, aiming it at the pugnacious soldier.

"Enough." He ordered. The other Swede didn't respond, but simply kept walking down the street. Berwald turned back to me.

"Can y' walk?" He asked. I shook my head slightly. Before I knew it, I was held in my tall lover's arms, being carried down the street. I was in a lot of pain still, and I think he noticed.

"I hurt y', didn't I?" He said. I smiled sadly.

"It was necessary though… We're fighting against eachother. I'm still your enemy." I responded.

"Now you're m' wounded captive. I'm going t' get y' out of Pajala, I promise."

"Won't your commanding officers find it suspicious that you're being so caring to me?" Berwald chuckled at my remark.

"Tino, I am a commanding offic'r. I'm Överstelöjtnant Oxensteirna. Normally I wouldn't b' out in such a dangerous area like Pajala, but I like t' keep the Swedish morale up and…"

"The Finnish morale down."

"Yeah…"

"It's all necessary in war." I hoped to cheer him up with that, but I didn't get much of a reaction.

Berwald carried me to a camp set up in a large parking lot that was barricaded by armored vehicles and barbed wire. When we passed through an opening, two soldiers walking out, presumably to go on patrol or something, saluted to Berwald. He nodded in acknowledgement and continued walking.

I was in awe at the camp before me. There were Swedes everywhere, and they were all heavily armed. Their gear was pretty protective-looking too. Where the Swedish soldiers sat or stood, there were normally crates of guns and ammunition, but occasionally there were computers and other forms of communication.

"Welcome t' Camp Låssmed, Tino. The main Swedish camp in Pajala." Berwald said.

"I don't feel very, uh, welcome here…" I responded, noting the glares many of the Swedish soldiers threw at me.

"Don't worry. Th' only places you are going t' be at are th' medical tent, and th' communicat'ns tent." He reassured me. I nodded slightly as he carried me to a white tent, most likely the medical tent he had mentioned.

He carried me in through the opening, revealing what was definitely a medical area. There were four beds lined up against the right side of the tent, six against the side adjacent where the entrance was, and two off to the left side that were splattered with blood with medical equipment scattered around. I was going to guess those were beds for operations.

"Överstelöjtnant Oxensteirna." A monotone voice caught Berwald's attention, making him turn to the man whom had spoken.

"Medic Bondevik. I have a patient for y'." He said. I got a look at the medic, and to be honest, I was pretty surprised. He was thin, pale, and had blood all over his clothes. I figured none of it was his. He also had blonde hair, held behind his ear with a cross hair pin. He wasn't in a Swedish military uniform; instead he was in brown slacks and a white long-sleeved shirt. He was most likely a civilian doctor.

Medic Bondevik looked to me and went wide-eyed, then looked back up to Berwald.

"A Finn? You want me to work on a Finnish soldier?" He questioned.

"Yes. Where do y' want me t' put him?" Berwald's voice didn't change the slightest bit at the questions Bondevik asked. I would have been stuttering and tripping over my words if a medic asked me if I wanted them to work on my enemy.

Medic Bondevik motioned to one of the six beds in the back of the tent, and meandered over with Berwald close behind. I was laid oh-so softly on the worn out mattress of the bed, and Medic Bondevik pulled up a stool next to me. He put on some latex gloves for what was most likely sanitation purposes, and was about to start doing his job, but he stopped and looked up to Berwald.

"Shoo. You'll see him soon enough." He said. Berwald nodded and saluted the medic before heading out.

"Alright… Let's get started here. What's your name, Finn?" He asked.

"Tino Väinämöinen…"

"What did Oxensteirna bring you here for?"

"I think I may have, uh, broken something in my back… And I may have a concussion… He tackled me out the wall of a two story building."

"Alright. Well, I'm going to need you to take off all your clothing from the waist up so I can see your back." He said. I nodded and started to take off my heavy uniform coat, the movements of trying to get the mass of zippers and velcro undone not working well with my back. Medic Bondevik had to step in and help me, which was embarrassing to say the least. Though after about 10 minutes, we finally managed to get all the necessary layers of clothing discarded. That consisted of a white tank top, a white long-sleeve cotton shirt, a black jacket, a bulletproof vest, and a thick camouflage coat.

Bondevik made me roll over onto my stomach and soon his cold hands were pressing on my back in certain spots, feeling the bones for any breaks. I cringed in pain and let out a grunt of pain as he pressed down on what I knew was injured. It was in my upper-spine area.

"Hm…" The medic felt the area a bit more, forcing me to bite down on my hand. "I don't feel any breaks, but there are most likely fractures." He said, taking his hands off me.

"I'm guessing from your troubles their somewhere either in the Cervical or the Thoracic vertebrae. I'm going to take a shot in the dark and say that it's either the C6 or the C7 that's fractured. Those would be in the Cervical, right above the Thoracic… Those assist arm function, which is probably why you had trouble getting undressed. I'm not a chiropractor, but I'm pretty sure that with pain medications and rest, your back can heal. We can't do kyphoplasty since I don't have the means to do that, so yeah… Rest and medication is your only option." He explained, all with a completely monotone voice.

"How long will I have to rest?" I asked.

"I'm not too sure. Let's start with a week, and if it's not completely better, we'll add another week." He said.

"Alright… Say, Medic, why aren't you in a uniform? Are you a civilian or something?" I questioned.

"I'm a Norwegian volunteer. Lukas Bondevik. I was a doctor back in Norway, but decided to offer my assistance to the Swedes. Who knew I'd end up in a place like Pajala?" He mused as he stood and went over to a shelf, sifting through boxes of medications.

"… So what's the deal with this place? All I saw outside this tent was ammunition and soldiers. Not many communications." I tried to strike up some sort of conversation with Lukas. It couldn't hurt to try and learn a bit about the camp, since I was going to be here for a while.

"This is Camp Låssmed. The main Swedish camp in Pajala. It supplies munitions to all Swedes in the Pajala area, and some other northern camps. It also houses the most heavily armed and geared soldiers in Sweden, the Långtradare. They were recently brought into the Swedish Armed Forces after going through an intense and strict training program called Ångvält Systematisk Utbildning. These Långtradare are amazing when they are in action. They have such heavy armor on them, bullets don't get through to the skin, and grenades will do little to no damage. And they use heavy-duty weapons like Rocket Propelled Grenades*, Remington 870 Shotguns**, and they carry around modified Kulspruta 88's***. No offense, but you Finns don't stand a chance with your equipment."

"We aren't exactly the best with close-range warfare. We're better with long-distance things, like sniping."

"I see. Well, enough chit-chat. Let's get you dressed, get some medication in you, and get you over to the recovery beds." He said.

Within a few minutes I was dressed in my uniform once again, minus the bulletproof vest. Lukas helped me over to the beds at the right side of the tent, and assisted me in laying down on one.

"Here." He said, handing me a few pills and a bottle of water. "Take these, and the pain in your back should go away for at least 24 hours."

I nodded and took the pills with the water as Lukas removed his latex gloves in a favor of a different pair.

"You can go ahead and keep the water. It looks like I've got another patient to take care of." He said; standing as a Swedish soldier was assisted into the tent. The man who was injured had a few bullet holes in his leg from what I could see.

I sighed a bit and leaned my head back on a pillow, closing my eyes as the Norwegian doctor conversed in Swedish with the injured patient.

A hand on my arm startled me, making me flinch and open my eyes. I let out a sigh of relief as I saw Berwald sitting next to me on a chair.

"How're y' feeling?" He asked quietly.

"I'm okay… I'm going to be stuck in this tent for a while though." I responded.

"Why?"

"Medic Bondevik said the only option for me if I want my back to heal is medication and rest."

"Ah… Looks like we'll have t' set up communicat'ns around y' then if we want y' to decode Finnish for us, huh?" He said, chuckling a bit. I smiled and slid my hand over to grasp his. He took it and brought it up to his lips.

"I love y', Tino… I wish we weren't in this war, b't we are." He murmured, warm breath heating up the cold skin of my hand.

"I… I love you too, Berwald…" I replied, almost in tears. It had been so long since Berwald and I had been able to share a moment like this.

Even though things were not looking good for the Finnish Armed Forces in Pajala, even though I was a Finnish soldier stuck in a Swedish camp, and even though there were Långtradare and entire Swedish units just waiting to kill Finns like me, I couldn't help but feel safe.

But I knew things wouldn't last long.

An explosion rang out outside, somewhere near the entrance of camp, followed by shouts and screams in Swedish. Berwald stood and hurried out of the medical tent, pulling his pistol out just before he exited.

Then I heard it. Someone shouting in Finnish, along with helicopters and what sounded to me to be something along the lines of a tank round hitting one of the armored vehicles parked around the perimeter of the camp.

That's when I realized- _Oh shit._ This was a full scale attack on Camp Låssmed by Finnish forces. And I, Tino Väinämöinen, was caught in the middle.

**xxxxxxxxx**

*A Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG) is a shoulder-fired anti-tank weapon system which fires equipped with an explosive warhead. These warheads are affixed to a rocket motor and stabilized in flight by some fins. Some types of RPGs are reloadable while others are single-use. RPGs, with the exception of self-contained versions, are loaded from the muzzle. RPGs are very effective against armored vehicles such as armored personnel carriers (APCs) and landed or hovering aircraft.

** The Remington Model 870 is a U.S.-made pump-action shotgun manufactured by Remington Arms Company, Inc. It is widely used by the public for sport shooting, hunting, and self-defense. It is also commonly used by law enforcement and military organizations worldwide.

*** Kulspruta 88's are the Swedish variant of the M2 Browning Machine Gun. The Browning .50 Caliber Machine Gun has been used extensively as a vehicle weapon and for aircraft armament by the United States from the 1920s to the present day. It was heavily used during World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, as well as during operations in Iraq and Afghanistan in the 2000s. It is the primary heavy machine gun of NATO countries, and has been used by many other countries as well.

Well, don't I just sound like a war-freak? Haha.

Well, here is the long awaited 2nd chapter of "Love Is War". Took me long enough to write, huh?


	3. Risky Plans of the Generalløjtnant

**A/N: **I've been sick for a while and haven't felt like doing much of anything other than writing. I can hardly think properly… Uhg… But, regardless, I brought it upon myself to finish this chapter.

Thank you SomeSnowInShell for the Finnish used in this chapter.

Oh, and warning, there is quite a bit of violence in this chapter.

**xxxxxxxxx **

I looked around in a state of panic. I spotted Lukas working quickly on the Swede whom had been injured before, but his calm composure was being tested. There was an attack going on outside, and he was in the middle of removing bullets from a man's leg.

I carefully stood from my bed, cringing in pain of course. The medications Lukas had given me weren't quite kicking in yet. I made my way to the front of the tent, peering outside. There were Finnish soldiers hiding in cover near the entrance of the camp as Swedes defended their territory.

"Tino! What the hell are you doing? Get back and lay down on the bed. You are in no condition to be up and around on your own!" Lukas' voice caught my attention, and I looked back to the pressured Norwegian.

"Uh, no. No matter how much I'm hurt or want to stay here, I belong with my fellow soldiers." And with that, I broke into a painful run over to one of the nearby weapon crates. The Swedes were too occupied with my Finnish comrades to notice me digging a nice Remington 870 and some ammunition from the crates. I bit my lip, really wanting the pain in my back to be gone.

Oh well.

I turned to the closest Swedish soldier and fired, blasting a shot right into the side of the man's abdomen. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground, giving me a bit of time to run for the entrance of the camp without being shot by that particular man.

I started running, but was stopped in my tracks as an extremely tall man in what looked to be in thick reinforced riot gear and a metal mask stepped in front of me. On the front of his armor read the word Långtradare in bold white lettering. I went wide eyed, backing up a bit. He didn't have any weapons on him, but he had clenched fists and was ready to fight me.

He reared back his fist and attempted to slug me right in the face, but I ducked, his hand skimming my blonde hair. He let out some kind of garbled Swedish behind his mask, and swung for a punch with his other hand. This one connected with my ribs, and _damn _did it hurt. Before I could fall backwards from the strike, the Långtradare grabbed the shoulder of my coat and lifted me off the ground. He then tossed me to the ground, and I cried out in pain. My shotgun slid across the cold pavement, far out of my reach. I was going to be beat to death if I didn't get away from this guy.

When I rolled over onto my back, I was greeted by a huge boot hovering over my head. Just before my attacker could step down and smash my head into bits, a blurred figure tackled the Långtradare, stumbling with him for a bit before finally getting him down to the ground with a loud cry of Swedish. I had no clue what he said, but a recognized the voice. It was Berwald.

"Run Tino!" He shouted. I got up and struggled to get moving quick enough to escape to safety.

I could hear Berwald tussling with the Långtradare, the heavily armored soldier obviously being able to fend off my lover with ease. Berwald was tall and strong, but the Långtradare was huge compared to him. And not to mention Berwald was fighting his own soldier. He was what everyone likes to call a _traitor._

I glanced back to Berwald, who was in practically the same spot I was before he defended me. The Långtradare was trying to stomp on him, but Berwald kept rolling to the side, eventually getting up only to be knocked down again.

When I got to the entrance of the camp; bullets whizzing by me, some of the Finnish soldiers assisted me in getting to safety, returning fire back at Swedes who were shooting at us. The pain in my back was dulling away now; thanks to the medication I had taken. One of the soldiers helping me turned to me, a sort of panic in his eyes.

"Oletteko kunnossa?" He questioned, noticing me glancing back towards the entrance of camp. I was so worried about Berwald. He had saved my life; put himself in my place, betrayed his own army in favor of not letting me get beat to death by the elite Långtradare of the Swedish Armed Forces.

It took me a moment, but I finally replied to the lower-ranked Finn.

"Kyllä, olen kunnossa. Hommatkaa vain minut pois täältä!" I could hear the odd sort of emotion in my voice. It was like frustration mixed with sadness, along with anxiety and fear. Nonetheless, the soldier listened.

"Kyllä, herra."

ooooooooo

When I finally arrived in a safe area, we were on the outskirts of Pajala; and from what I could tell, the attack was unsuccessful. There were trucks pulling into the small medical camp, carrying wounded soldiers, some of which were groaning and crying from the pain of their injuries.

I swallowed hard as I watched a young man who must have been eighteen or nineteen be unloaded from one of the trucks, bloodied, battered, screaming. He was covered in heavy burns, and both his legs were gone from the knee down. There was blood seeping through the bandages that were supposed to be suppressing the flow of the red liquid, dripping down and leaving a trail as he was carted off to a tent.

I shook my head to try and clear it, a small shiver going down my back. That young soldier could have been me. I could have been the one yowling, crying in pain, wanting to die because of how much my injuries hurt. I could have been the one with no legs, with scars forever plaguing my image. It could have been me.

But I guess I was lucky, just having a fractured spine. It could have been so much worse for me, but my injuries were given to me by the man I loved. He would never have the heart to kill me.

I looked up to the sky, the majority of it darkened by night. A few stars shone brightly, and I began to wonder how long it had been since I had been deployed from my camp to the Pajala area. As I stared up at the beauty of the night, a helicopter came into sight, rotors spinning rapidly, loudly. I couldn't tell completely, but it looked to be damaged.

It hovered over a clearing towards the center of the small camp and soon landed. Finnish soldiers aimed their weapons towards the unidentified, damaged aircraft, shouting out orders as the pilot shut off the engine.

The pilot stepped out with his hands up, along with a few soldiers that were inside the damaged hull of the chopper. I recognized them to be Danish Special Operation soldiers. There were five of them including the pilot, but three were injured.

"Don't shoot. I bear a written message for the Finnish Armed Forces." The pilot said, reaching into his pocket slowly and retrieving an envelope. He held it out.

"Who is the highest ranked officer here?" He questioned. A Finnish man stepped up and grabbed the envelope, tearing it open and pulling out a letter. He began to read it aloud with a calm, clear voice.

"To the Generals and Officers of the Finnish Armed Forces, We, the Kingdom of Denmark's Danish Defence, offer the Finnish Armed Forces an alliance and offer support through a single Special Operations unit placed in the Pajala area, along with an amount of ground troops, two armored transport helicopters, and two Leopard 2A5 DK tanks. Along with those units, we offer naval support through the Absalon-class HDMS Esbern Snare. Operations outside of Denmark involving Danish forces will be led by Generalløjtnant Mathias Køhler; who will be with the Special Operations unit. If you refuse the alliance, send the Danish helicopter holding Special Operations Unit K back to Denmark after allowing them to refuel. Sincerely, The Danish Defence."

By now, the soldiers in the small camp had gathered around.

"Well, shall we accept?" One soldier questioned.

"… Kyllä." The high-ranking Finn said, handing the letter off to one of the Finnish soldiers who specialized in communications. "Relay this alliance over to the General, and from there it will go to the president."

"Kyllä, herra." The communications soldier went off to a tent quickly.

"I am assuming this is one of the armored transport helicopters, and you five Danes are the Special Operations Unit that was sent." The high-ranking Finn said, looking over the five.

"Yeah, we are. We kind got shot up when we went over a bit of Swedish land though. Three of my men are injured." One of the Danish men said. He must have been Generalløjtnant Mathias Køhler. Man, he looked nothing like I expected out of someone so highly ranked in the Danish Defence. He looked to be in his early twenties, unlike most men who held a rank anywhere near Generalship.

"And you are?" The Finnish man standing in front of Mathias asked.

"Generalløjtnant Mathias Køhler, leader of Special Operations Unit K, and leader of Danish Operations in Finland. And you, _sir_?" Mathias almost seemed to mock the high-ranked Finn in front of him when he has said "sir".

"I am Majuri Leskinen. That is all you need to know." There was a hint of malice in Majuri Leskinen's voice; I think it was there because technically Mathias was now the highest ranking man around.

"Alright, whatever you say. So, Major, how about getting my injured men some help so we can get these operations in Pajala started? I know I'm itching to do some infiltrating." Mathias said, smirking slightly. Major reluctantly went over to the injured Danes and assisted them in getting to the medical tent.

I sighed a bit and walked over to the edge of camp, sitting on a crate. I couldn't bear the thoughts of Berwald that were going through my head. Pictures of the aftermath of his battle with the Långtradare flashed in my mind, his battered bruised body practically destroyed by the hands of his own soldier.

Before I knew, it I had tears running down my cheeks. They were the first tears I had shed ever since Berwald had gone back to Sweden to fight for his nation.

"Are you cryin', man?" I heard a man with a Danish accent say from behind me. I looked over my shoulder slightly to see Mathias, rounding the side of the crate to sit next to me.

"Why does it matter to you?" I responded, looking down.

"I just saw you over here all alone. Shouldn't you be resting or something? After tomorrow everyone's going back to Pajala to continue the fight for Camp Låssmed." He commented.

"I can't rest… Not when he's still in in Camp Låssmed fighting… God knows what's happened to him; last I saw him he was being pummeled by his own soldier…"

"Who's 'he'?" Mathias asked.

"My… my boyfriend. He's Överstelöjtnant Oxenstierna…" I replied.

"Oh… Man, I'm sorry... Can't say I know what it's like having to fight against the man I love."

"Of course you wouldn't know; you're a General…"

"I'm a Lieutenant General. But anyways, back to the point. I may not know how you feel in your situation, but let me tell you about my boyfriend. When I joined the Danish Defence last year, that's the last time I ever saw him. He's a doctor from Norway. I don't quite know how he's handling me being gone. Probably just the same blank face as always."

Mathias mentioning a doctor from Norway sounded all too familiar. With all the thoughts in my head, the craziest one of all popped in, and I had to figure out if it was true.

"What's he like?" I asked.

"He's really blank-faced, kind of sarcastic. He's always pale-skinned; he can never get a tan. Ever. It's kind of funny. Anyways, he's got blonde hair kind of like yours. Dull, beautiful blue eyes… Oh, and he always uses a cross hairpin to clip his hair back behind his ear."

"Lukas Bondevik."

"How the hell do you know his name?" Mathias questioned, stunned.

"He was a volunteer in Camp Låssmed. He's the only medic there. I was captured by the Swedes; by Berwald actually, and I was injured. I was taken into the medical tent and Lukas… He was the medic. He didn't say anything about you, when I talked with him though. He just said he was a Norwegian volunteer that offered his assistance to the Swedes." I explained.

"Well, I'll be damned… _Shit…_" He cursed; I raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?"

"I've planned out a mission to pick off every single man in Camp Låssmed with my Unit. If the alliance is formally accepted by your General and the President; that means all the Danish forces mentioned in the alliance document will come up north along with the Finnish forces to try to take Pajala. Casualties will be numerous if all goes as planned. No Swedish soldier should be alive by the time we're done. We'll be attacking both our loved ones. You'll be fighting Berwald like you have, and I'll be fighting Lukas, and he has no means of fighting back… Lukas hardly knows how to shoot a gun; he's just a doctor…"

"We can't let this happen… We have to warn Lukas and Berwald before it's too late…"

"But how?"

"I'm not too sure."

"Hmm… What if we snuck into Camp Låssmed at night and warned Lukas? From there, we can have Lukas tell Berwald. Berwald won't tell anyone we were there, right?"

"I don't think he would."

"Alright. So the plan is, we leave tomorrow when it's dark out. We head to Pajala, avoid any patrols, and go into the camp. From there, we'll find Lukas and inform him of the attack. We'll also tell him to tell Berwald, so they can both be ready and escape when they can. Then we'll come back here so we can be with the troops for the attack. We have to do this all before the sun is up, so we have to be quick. Think you can do it?"

"I'll need painkillers for my back, but I should be good once I can't feel the pain."

"Your back the injury that you got?"

"Yeah. Berwald tackled me out the wall of a two story building and fractured my upper back. Lukas was actually the one to figure that out."

"He's pretty handy, isn't he?"

"He's a good doctor, but man, his hands were cold when he was trying to figure out where the fracture was in my spine."

"Yeah, he's always got cold hands. I always ask him why, he always replies in that monotone voice 'Does it matter?'" Mathias said, laughing a bit. I smiled.

"We should probably get some rest, Mathias. Tomorrow night will be tough, so we'll need our rest."

"Yeah. I'm kind of tired anyways." Mathias said standing.

We both retired to a small barracks on one end of camp, and I knew Mathias was asleep just as soon as his head hit the pillow. He sure snored a lot.

I lay there awake for a few minutes, going over the plan in my head. It was risky, but it was our only hope of saving Lukas and Berwald's lives. I knew the next attack on Pajala was going to be extremely harsh. What was left of the Finnish forces near Pajala were going to attack once again, along with all the Danish forces we were offered by the Danish Defence. That was an estimated 5,000 Finns, plus tanks, helicopters, an undisclosed amount of Danish soldiers, and 5 Danes from a Special Operations Unit.

Eventually though, even with all the thinking I was doing, the tiredness set in and I finally went to sleep. I would need all the rest I could get for what Mathias and I were going to do tomorrow night.

It was going to be dangerous, but it was a risk that had to be taken.


	4. In Darkness

The day seemed to fly by, the plan Mathias and I had come up with weighing heavily on my mind. As darkness fell over northern Sweden, the said Dane and I were sitting at the edge of camp, awaiting the perfect moment to head out. I had taken medications for my back that would give at least twelve hours of painlessness, so he and I had twelve hours to get to Camp Låssmed, warn Lukas and Berwald, and get back to the little outpost we were currently at before I started to feel the crippling damage of my fractured spine once again.

There were a few guards standing around, the majority of them being low-ranked Finnish soldiers. There were two of them who could see us leave if they tried, but they were busy chatting. One of the Finns was motioning to his Rk 62 Assault Rifle and aiming it off in the distance, as if explaining a story or just showing off. The other seemed mildly interested, asking questions and motioning to the man's rifle. They were distracted, which meant Mathias and I could leave.

"Let's go." I said quietly. Mathias nodded and we both stood, hurrying off into a lightly forested area nearby. We had outfitted ourselves in dark, lightweight clothing, wearing black gloves and beanie caps so that we could blend in with the darkness. We had debated on whether or not we wanted to carry our rifles with us in case we got caught and had to defend ourselves, and decided not to. They would be too cumbersome to carry around on our little mission. We weren't unprotected though; we each carried a combat knife and we sure as hell could do some damage with them. Mathias was trained profoundly with hand to hand combat, and gave me a few pointers during the day about how exactly to use a combat knife to maximum effectiveness.

When Mathias and I arrived near Camp Låssmed, we were now deep into Swedish territory. There were men with flashlights patrolling the streets all around. Mathias and I had taken cover in a damaged building where no light shone. We had view of the gates to the Camp, and could tell that there were many Swedes awake and guarding the place, including two Långtradare that were just outside, both carrying what seemed to be Kulspruta 88s.

"We have to get past those Långtradare." I murmured, peeking around a hole in the wall to see the Camp gates once again.

"I know… What if we created a distraction?" Mathias asked.

"What kind of distraction would we use?" I replied, looking to him.

"We could knock something over." He said.

"That could work… I'll sneak over to the other side of the road and pound on the dumpster in the alleyway. I'll hurry back over here, and hopefully the Långtradare will be curious enough to investigate."

"Alright. I'll wait here and watch for anyone else. Keep your knife ready, and be careful."

I nodded and rounded the hole in the wall, crouching down as to not be seen by anyone around. I looked up and down the street to my right, seeing only the faint light of a soldier walking away with a flashlight. I looked ahead of me to the crosswalk, where there was no light except for the faint on coming from the Camp down the street.

While still crouching, I rushed across the street, slipping into the alleyway where the dumpster I had planned to hit a few times awaited. I sat there for a moment, looking around for any patrols. With none in my direct sight, I pounded my left fist on the side of the dumpster, making enough noise to startle everyone in the city. I quickly made my way back over to Mathias, thankfully not being spotted.

"Are they heading over?" I questioned him as he peeked out the wall to see the gates of the Camp.

"… Yeah. They're heading over there with three others who just passed by them. Come on." He said, leading the way out of our current cover and towards the gate. We made it into the shadow of one of the armored vehicles parked around the perimeter of Camp Låssmed just in time to hide from a few others heading down the street towards the alley where I had made the noise.

Mathias and I lay down and hid under the armored truck, both wanting to breathe sighs of relief, but holding them in. We were nowhere near completing our goal yet.

"There are six more trucks and a tank lined up on this side of the gate. If we crawl below the trucks until we get to the tank, there should be a gap in the fence. I remember seeing a few here and there when I was being taken into the Camp." I explained.

"Alright... Wait, so then why the hell did we distract the Långtradare away from the main gate if there are other ways in?" My comrade asked.

"Because they would have seen us crossing this street to get under the truck." I replied.

"Oh… Well, let's get crawling. We don't have forever."

I held back a slight sigh of annoyance and started crawling under the trucks. When the tank was the next vehicle in line, Mathias and I discovered that there in fact was a gap in the fence. We looked through to discover that it was right behind a large tent and stacked up crates of ammunition.

"I'll go in first; stay right behind me." Mathias ordered. I nodded, and he started to crawl through the gap to get into the camp. I followed as closely as possible.

Once we were in the Camp, we crouched down beside the ammunition crates, knives in our hands. We were in the definite danger zone.

"Alright, we're in. Where's the medical tent? That's where Lukas would be, right?" Mathias asked.

"Yes, that's where he would be. It's…" I had to think for a moment. We were on the right side of the camp, and I remembered being taken to the left side of camp when I was being escorted to the medical tent.

"We have to get to the other side of the lot." I said.

"Damn it…" Mathias cursed, peeking around the side of the tent. "There are soldiers outside of each tent I can see. Some are in chairs, others are standing."

"What if we snuck around behind each tent until we got to the medical tent, then tore through the side of the canvas with our knives to get inside?"

"Tino, you're a genius. Lead the way."

I smirked slightly before heading over to the right edge of the tent Mathias and I were currently behind. We rushed from tent to tent silently, not getting caught when we were in between. Damn, we were lucky.

When we got behind the medical tent, I took my knife and jammed it into the flimsy canvas, tearing a hole in it large enough for me to slip through. I glanced to Mathias before entering, noticing the longing look in his eyes. He wanted to see Lukas so bad, and I knew it.

Once we were both inside the dim tent, we looked around for Lukas. Sure enough, the Norwegian was laying down on one of the recovery beds, asleep.

"Mathias, wake him up. Just shake him a bit, cover his mouth with your hand in case he tries to yell." I said quietly. He nodded and walked over to the side of the bed, placing one hand over Lukas' mouth and shaking him a bit with the other.

Lukas' eyes shot open and I heard a muffled cry come out from under Mathias' hand. Lukas squirmed, trying to get away, but Mathias held him down.

"Lukas, calm down! It's just me, Mathias!" The Danish of the two said; his voice hardly above a whisper. Lukas stopped struggling and took a good look at Mathias, finally recognizing that it in fact was his Danish boyfriend.

Mathias slowly took his hand away from Lukas' mouth as the Norwegian sat up, staring him right in the eyes.

"It's… really you? This isn't a dream?" He asked.

"Yeah, it is… Listen, Tino and I snuck in here to tell you an extremely important message. Okay? We don't have long to explain before we have to head back out." Mathias said.

"And what is this message?" Lukas replied, glancing to me, then back to his Danish lover.

"There is going to be a full-scale attack on Camp Låssmed and the Pajala area by Finnish and Danish forces tomorrow at noon. That's around five thousand Finns alongside tanks, helicopters, about two hundred Danish soldiers, and my five-man Spec Ops Unit coming straight here. Tino's boyfriend is Berwald Oxenstierna, and you're my boyfriend. We need you to warn Berwald, and both get the fuck out of Pajala. We don't want you or Berwald hurt." Mathias explained to Lukas, who just sat there, nodding.

"I can do that." He said.

"Alright. Thank you so much, Luke, you just took a whole lot of worry off my shoulders." Mathias responded, placing his hands, on the other man's shoulders.

"… I'm guessing you two need to leave now?" Lukas asked. Mathias bit his lip and looked to me. I rolled up my sleeve and checked my watch.

"We have around two minutes before we have to get going back." I said. I had to give them some time to say goodbye. It could be a long time before they saw eachother again.

Mathias looked back to Lukas and wrapped his arms tightly around the Norwegian, holding the younger man close. I exited the tent, waiting outside of it for Mathias. I could hear them speaking in what was either Norwegian or Danish, voices filled with emotions close to regret. I gripped my knife tightly in my hand, staring up at the starry sky above.

I waited for around two minutes before popping my head back inside the tent.

"Come on, Mathias, we have to get going." I said. The Dane looked to me, then back to Lukas. They shared one last kiss and a few words before Mathias let go of the Medic and slipped outside the tent, joining me.

"We can take the same route to get outside the camp, but the Långtradare are back at the gates. We can't cross the street like we did before, so we'll need to get a different route." I explained.

"What if we use a different gap? Like a gap on the opposite side of the gate from where we came in?"

"That could work. Follow me." I started heading towards the back of the tent beside the Medical tent, Mathias following. I stopped at the edge and peeked around the corner to see if there was anyone that would see us crossing from tent to tent, only to be greeted by a Swedish soldier about a foot away. The man looked down at me a bit confused. Before he could say anything, Mathias leapt forward with is knife, dragging the man down with a hand over his mouth. The Swede's muffled screaming could hardly be heard as Mathias dragged his knife across his neck, blood spurting from severed arteries. Soon the screaming turned to sickening choking, and then to silence.

"Hej! Finländare!"

_Oh, shit. _We had just been caught. Mathias and I jumped up from our spots and attempted to run, but were immediately stopped when we realized we were surrounded. Swedish soldiers had their weapons aimed directly at us, and they all looked pissed.

One Swede stepped forward out of the group.

"Drop your weapons and put your hands up." He ordered. Mathias and I both tossed our knives to the ground and raised our hand up, surrendering. We were soon approached by two soldiers and handcuffed. We were escorted out from behind the medical tent, taken to a different tent towards the center of camp. When we entered through the flaps of the tent, we were greeted by things that looked much like prison cells.

Mathias was harshly tossed into one, the door locked behind him. He sat there on the ground, looking down. Meanwhile, I was shoved just as roughly into a similar cell, falling onto my back. Luckily, I didn't feel it.

I sat up as the door was shut and locked by one of the Swedes, biting my lip. Once the Swedish soldiers were gone, I heard Mathias' voice.

"I'm sorry, Tino. I fucked up… I caused this. I got us caught. If I hadn't spent so much time with Lukas, we wouldn't have been spotted by-"

"Mathias, it's not your fault. We still accomplished our mission, you know." I cut the Dane off, not wanting him to feel guilty for getting us caught.

"Y'know, there's another person in these cells." I heard an all too familiar voice say from the cell beside me. I looked over to my right, and sure enough, there was Berwald. He was battered and bruised, his left eye swollen shut, and the majority of that side of his face bruised heavily. His uniform was torn up and dirtied, the insignia on his shoulder cut off.

"Berwald… Oh God, what happened to you?" I asked, scooting over to the bars closest to Berwald's cell. The bars of my cell were touching the bars of his, and there were wide enough gaps in between each individual bar for hands to fit through.

"Nothing… Turn y'r back towards m' cell so I can get y'r cuffs off." He said, I nodded, and turned my back to him. I felt his hands on the zip-ties, and soon the pressure on my wrists was off. I turned back around and reached through the bars, grabbing Berwald's hands, which were bruised. His left hand was swollen and looked a bit deformed. One of his fingers was crooked, and his thumb seemed twisted slightly.

"What did they do to you, Berwald?" I asked, on the border of tears.

"… When I fought with th' Långtradare, he beat m' up pretty bad… That's how m' eye got swollen shut… When they figured out I was a traitor, they tossed m' in this cell and beat m' up some more. Broke m' hand… M' pretty sure I have cracked ribs t'." He explained.

"I… I wish I could help you… I'm so sorry, Berwald…" With those few words, a few tears spilled from my eyes. Berwald gently reached through the bars with his uninjured hand and wiped them away.

"Don't worry, Tino… M' alright. Now I have y' here with m'." He smiled a bit, caressing my cheek. I sighed shakily.

"I love you, Berwald." I said. He nodded.

"I love y' too."

Our little moment was interrupted by some Swedish soldiers coming into the tent.

"What do we have here, Berwald? This your little lover that you rescued yesterday? We caught him after he and his comrade killed Private Bakken. What do you think of that?" One of them asked, standing in front of my cell, but looking at Berwald.

"Necessary casualty." Berwald responded.

"Hah. We aren't going to let this Finnish bastard get away with that." The other Swede said, before speaking some Swedish to Berwald. Berwald's expression turned to that of sheer horror.

"N-Nej! Nej! Snälla! I beg of you, don't do it!" He shouted. The other Swede smirked and entered my cell, pulling out a pistol and aiming it straight at my head. I stared down the barrel of the gun, wide-eyed.

I was going to die.


	5. Six Feet Under Never Seemed So Close

**A/N: **This chapter basically goes straight into the action. There's a bit of gore in this one, and what are most likely medical inaccuracies. It's also a very emotional chapter, seeing that Berwald has to watch some rather unnerving things.

I think I found a good theme song of sorts for this chapter. It's a Norwegian song called Evig Pint by Kaizer's Orchestra.

**Warning: Surgery scene included in this chapter. People easily grossed out, you have been warned.**

Anyways, onto the chapter.

**xxx**

I sat there, a sleek black pistol pointed right at my face. I couldn't move; I was frozen in fear and shock. Even if I wanted to defend myself, I couldn't. I had no weapons, and no means of escape. Good God, and Berwald had to watch this horrifying scene.

"You, you sneaky little Finn, won't get away with what you've done." The Swede with the gun said. He stepped a bit closed to me, making sure his aim was dead on. I could see the muscles in his hand tightening oh-so slowly.

"Wait!" Mathias shouted from the cell across from mine.

"What?" The Swede, still aiming at me, turned to look at the Danish man.

"I was the one who killed that soldier. Don't kill Tino, kill me."

Did Mathias seriously just say that? Did he _seriously _just put himself in my place, and tell the Swede to shoot him?

"Well, well, looks like everyone wants to save this Finnish bastard. Too bad." The Swede, without any sort of warning, pulled the trigger of the pistol. His aim was off, so the bullet struck the side of my neck, piercing and going through muscle. I screamed in pain, clutching my neck. I knew this wasn't a kill shot, but it hurt like hell and was bleeding quite a bit.

"Tino!" Berwald shouted. The Swedish man with the gun laughed a bit and fired again, this time the bullet struck my shoulder. I yowled in agony; this pain was far worse than what my back had ever been in.

"Please, stop! I beg of you, please!" Berwald pleaded for my life, clutching the bars of his cell tightly. His voice was filled with horror and panic, and I knew he was suffering, watching me get shot up like this.

The Swede with the gun leaned down and grabbed the front of my shirt, lifting me to my feet forcefully. He placed the gun under my chin and I thought it was over. My brains would splatter all over the tent and I would be long gone.

But I was wrong.

I looked to the tent entrance, where Lukas had just come in.

"Stop! Stop what you're doing!" He demanded, forcing the gun out of the Swede's hand and tossing it across the tent. The man dropped me, and I collapsed to the ground, one hand on my neck, the other on my shoulder. I cried out through grit teeth, but still managed to keep track of what was going on.

"Listen, these two have done nothing wrong. They have given me an important message about an attack that's going to happen at noon tomorrow." Lukas explained.

"Lukas, what the hell are you doing? You're compromising the Finnish and Danish mission!" Mathias shouted.

"Shut up, Mathias, I'm saving yours and Tino's lives." Lukas snapped, before looking back to the Swede whom had shot me.

"These two have informed me of an attack that is going to happen at noon tomorrow. Camp Låssmed and the Pajala area will be taken. 5,000 Finnish soldiers, 200 Danes, plus helicopters, tanks, and a Danish Special Operations unit. This place will be taken inevitably; we must leave or else the Swedish Armed Forces will receive heavy casualties." He explained.

"So that's why these two were caught outside the medical tent?" The Swede questioned.

"Yes. These two are traitors to their nation, just as Berwald was a traitor to yours. They helped the Swedes, Berwald helped them, and everything cancels out. I say that we allow all three to leave and go back to Finland after I treat Berwald and Tino's injuries." Lukas apparently had some sort of authority over the soldiers, despite his civilian status.

"… Fine." The Swede said, unlocking the cells before retrieving his pistol and heading out of the tent. Lukas hurried over to me, followed by an utterly terrified Berwald.

"Y' alright, Tino?" He questioned. I tried to nod to reassure him, but the wound in my neck caused some serious pain. I ended up half screaming from it.

"Berwald, pick him up and take him to the medical tent." Lukas ordered. Berwald nodded and lifted me up gently, the blood coming from my shoulder and neck staining his tattered uniform.

"B-Berwald… I-I'm so sorry…" I tried to speak to my lover through the pain.

"Shh. Don't… Don't t'lk, Tino…" He replied as he carried me across the camp to the medical tent. He set me down on one of the two beds to the left that were already covered in blood from previous operations. Berwald pulled up as stool and sat beside me, clutching one of my blood-covered hands in his own battered ones.

Lukas soon entered the tent, heading over to a shelf and retrieving latex gloves, a surgical mask, gauze, and a few other items. He hurried over to me, pulling up a stool. He put the surgical mask on and slipped on the latex gloves, obviously going by a medical protocol of sorts.

"The worse wound is the one in your neck. I'm going to clean it up and see what exactly the damage is, and do what I can to fix it. We aren't in a hospital, so obviously there won't be too much I can do to repair any muscle that's damaged. For now, I'm going to inject your neck with a numbing agent so that you won't feel most of what I can do." He explained as he prepped a syringe. I could hardly nod to signal that I understood what he was saying.

I squeezed Berwald's hand tightly as Lukas placed the needle against the bloodied skin of my neck and slid it in; injecting whatever was inside the syringe into me. He gently slipped the needle out and set the syringe on a pan on a nearby table. The Norwegian turned back to me with some gauze in hand, firmly pressing it to my wounded neck in an attempt to soak up the blood and stop any further blood loss.

I could feel everything in my neck at the moment. It felt like everything from below my ear down to the start of my shoulder was on fire, or being stabbed a thousand times with a knife. Within about a minute though, the direct pain had subsided into a dull ache.

"Can you feel this?" Lukas asked, prodding a finger near the wound.

"N-No…" I muttered. He nodded and took away the gauze he had been holding. He placed the used gauze on a separate pan from the one the syringe had previously been put on, and retrieved a cloth and a water bottle from the table. He wet the cloth with the water, and then began to clean around the wound. Once finished with that, he placed the damp blood-soaked cloth at the crook of my neck.

"Alright, Tino, this is probably going to hurt a bit. I'm going to try to sew up the entry and exit wounds. Then we'll move on to your shoulder, which will be a bit harder to numb, but a bit easier to deal…" His voice trailed off, and he looked to my neck. He quickly scrambled to get some gauze, and placed it firmly against my neck. I must have started bleeding again.

"Damn, Tino… You need to calm down. Your heart rate is increasing, and a lot more blood is being pumped through your system. Just calm down. Take deep breaths, don't focus on anything else." He ordered. It was true, I had started to panic. I started to think about the damage, about all the blood and gore that Berwald was witnessing. I gripped my boyfriend's hand as tightly as I could, trying to take deep breaths in order to calm myself.

"Good, just like that. Keep breathing." Lukas instructed, still holding the gauze up against my neck with one hand, checking my pulse on my wrist with the other.

After a few moments, Lukas removed the gauze from my neck and retrieved a surgical suture and tweezers, already threaded and ready to go.

"Alright, Tino… Just keep your breathing nice and steady while I stitch this up…" The Norwegian said, before beginning to poke the thread in and out of my skin, sealing up the wound. I could feel it, every time he jabbed that little needle through a layer of skin, it stung. It hurt, and I expected no less even when my neck was numbed.

Once the entry wound was sewn shut, he moved on to the exit wound. This one I felt just a bit more, since it was further from the point where Lukas had injected the numbing stuff into my neck. At one point I flinched a bit from the pain, and made him lab the needle too far into the skin. He quickly pulled it out, going back to stitching me up.

Once finished, he placed some sort of cloth over both wounds, and then used surgical tape to hold it there.

"Alright, now onto your shoulder. I'm going to need you to lie on your side so that I can access both the entry and exit wounds." I shifted over onto my side, and tried to stay calm. I knew that this was going to hurt even worse than my neck.

Lukas took a pair of scissors and cut away at the cloth of my shirts. He reached the wound after about five minutes of cutting, peeling off the last bit of blood soaked clothing and discarding it along with the others.

He went through the same procedure of cleaning the wound with a damp cloth, and I soon found myself getting my shoulder stitched up as well.

"You're lucky the bullets went all the way through. I would have had to remove them if they were lodged in your body." Lukas commented as he finished up the rather agonizing suturing. He placed that same sort of cloth as before over each wound and taped it there with surgical tape.

"Alright… We're done with you Tino. Berwald, could you do me a favor and take him over to one of the recovery beds while I clean up here? Once he's resting, I'll get you checked out."

I was soon being held in the bruised arms of my boyfriend and carried over to one of the beds I had laid in before, when I had been captured by the Swedes. He gently put me down as to not hurt me more than I already was, and leaned down, placing a light kiss on my forehead. He took a moment by me, gently stroking my face with his uninjured hand, wanting to make sure I was calm and okay.

"The longer you wait, the worse you're going to get, Berwald. That hand isn't going to straighten itself out, you know. Once I've got you bandaged up, you can spend all the time you want with Tino." Lukas commented from over at the other side of the tent. Berwald sighed and lightly draped a nearby blanket over me before heading over to a different bed where Lukas was waiting. Berwald sat on the edge of the bed calmly, now giving his full attention to the Norwegian.

I watched as the two conversed in Swedish, Berwald eventually removing his tattered uniform coat and the shirt underneath. I could only stare in shock at the sickening bruises that covered the expanse of his abdomen and chest. I could even make out the shape of the sole of a boot in the bruises along his ribcage.

Lukas, now with a different pair of latex gloves, gently pressed his hands against Berwald's ribs, watching at my Swedish boyfriend's reactions to the pressure. Berwald cringed and said something in Swedish that sounded awfully pained when Lukas put a small amount of force on his lower ribcage. Lukas nodded a bit and gently felt the area, careful as to not put too much pressure on the injured area.

"Fraktur…" Lukas muttered. That I could understand, despite the fact that I didn't speak Swedish. Berwald's ribs must have been fractured.

The two conversed a bit more in Swedish as Lukas moved on to examine Berwald's obviously damaged hand. Lukas started to explain something to Berwald, and then asked a question, pointing to the other man's crooked finger. Berwald nodded slightly and seemed to brace himself for pain; I didn't understand why until Lukas took a hold of the digit and forced it back into place with an audible crack. Berwald bit his lip and let out a groan of pain. Lukas stood and went over to a shelf, searching through a few boxes before retrieving a brace that was supposed to restrict the movement of someone's wrist and middle and index fingers.

After wrapping Berwald's once crooked middle finger to his index finger with surgical tape, he placed the brace on Berwald's wrist, strapping it on tight enough to secure the limb and restrict its mobility. Berwald asked a question to Lukas, motioning to his ribcage, and Lukas seemed to answer, explaining what was most likely what Berwald wasn't supposed to do when he had fractured ribs.

After explaining, Lukas then moved on to inspect Berwald's swollen-shut left eye. He seemed to dismiss it, before sighing and going over to that same shelf as before. He soon returned back over to Berwald and placed a small bottle of pills and a water bottle in his uninjured hand. He then motioned to me, and explained yet another circumstance to my boyfriend, before finally allowing Berwald to come back over to me.

"What did he say to you?" I asked quietly.

"Told m' that m' hand will heal okay if I keep it in th' brace, and kept th' fingers straightened out. M' thumb will heal crooked, but it won't restrict much… Two of m' ribs are fractured, but there isn't much he can do about it. And th' swelling in m' face will probably go down soon, and th' bruises will go away… He also gave m' these pills for pain. Told m' to give two t' you right now, and for m' to take them if I experience any pain." Berwald explained, taking to pills out of the bottle and placing them in one of my hands and placing the water bottle in my other one. I managed to take the pills without any help, even with the pain in my shoulder and neck.

Berwald lightly grabbed my hand, holding it with his uninjured one. I knew it was hard for him to see me like this, and even harder to have watched me get shot and go through the low-tech surgery Lukas had to do.

"I wish I could h've stopped that man from shooting y', Tino…" He muttered. I smiled slightly and brought my hand up to his cheek.

"It doesn't matter, Berwald. I'm alive, and that's all that matters. Thanks to Lukas and his interruption, I wasn't shot in the head." I replied. He sighed and leaned down, placing a bittersweet kiss on my lips. It was brief, but it meant so much. We hadn't shared a kiss like that since before the war had started.

"I love y' Tino… I love y' so much, it hurts me t' see y' like this…" He murmured. I could see tears forming in the one eye I could see, and watched as the first tear dripped down his cheek. I reached up and wiped it away softly.

"Don't cry, Berwald… I'll be alright." I said. He nodded and took a deep breath in attempt to calm himself.

"Sorry… Just hurts t' see y' in pain…" He apologized.

"It's okay… Honestly, Berwald, you have every reason to cry… I just don't like seeing such a strong man like you cry."

"When w' go to Finland, we're going down south to where y' were born; in Helsinki… And we're going to b' done with this war. I don't care if we're called deserters, I don't want t' be fighting y' anymore…"

"That sounds good to me… As long as I don't have to worry about you being hurt by anyone, I'll be happy."

"Then it's a plan?"

"Yeah… It's a plan."


	6. Home is Where the Heart Isn't

**A/N: **It took me a while to write this chapter, mainly because school has started up, and my insomnia has become even more rampant than usual. I'm having to take actual sleeping medications to knock myself out so that I can get a good night's rest.

I have a song for this chapter. It's an acoustic cover of the song "The End of Heartache" by the YouTube user shawnmscribner. Check it out; he does a very amazing cover.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter of "Love Is War".

**xxxxx**

I had awoken before most others in the camp. The pains in my neck, shoulder, and back had been dulled by medications that I had taken before I had gone to sleep.

I had spent the night in Camp Låssmed surrounded by the elite Långtradare and Swedish soldiers. Berwald had stayed by the side of my bed the majority of the time, practically clinging to me. I knew he had every reason to. I had almost been killed. If it weren't for Lukas, I would be in a grave.

I was standing just outside the medical tent in the early morning sun. It was chilly outside, definitely. Winter was coming along fast, and when it was this early in the morning, frost had an icy coat on the Pajala area. The sun was hardly up, and the sky was still dim. Only a few people were awake at this time; mainly the guards of the camp. They were two Långtradare, whom were conversing quietly in Swedish. They seemed to shirk off their duty this early

"You're up awfully early." I heard a distinct monotone voice say from the entrance to the tent.

"Yeah… I just wanted to watch the sun rise." I responded as Lukas came out of his tent and stood next to me.

"It's a beautiful thing to watch at a time of war. As a new day comes, hope rises with the sun." By this time, I had figured out Lukas was a rather sentimental man. He seemed very dull and even a bit arrogant, but after observing his actions with Mathias and by listening to his words, I knew he was quite the opposite. He hid his true nature behind a mask of calm and an aura of hard-heartedness, but only things like metaphors and people like Mathias could bring out who he really was.

Lukas and I stood there as the sun slowly moved across the sky, lighting up the city peacefully, calmly. Soldiers began to awaken, gathering their equipment with sluggish movements and tired eyes that scanned the area, searching for an objective of some sort. They all looked so incapable of fighting much longer. I watched as some of the unarmored Långtradare retrieved their bulky equipment, battered and bruised from being roughed up by their form of warfare. Their eyes were bloodshot and circled in black by sleeplessness; their faces were unshaven and dirty, bruised and bloodied by fighting. Even with the steel masks they wore, blood still found its way to the covered skin.

I observed as Berwald emerged from a tent that housed beds for soldiers. He wasn't ever a morning person, but the war had taken its toll on him, showing age far more than his years. His eyes, the deep cerulean blue ones I had grown to love, looked so dull and tired; distant and unfocused. The swelling had gone down, but it had left a nasty bruise behind. His face was unshaven and unclean, speckled with dirt and blood. His mouth had taken on a seemingly permanent frown; he just looked so worn down. I'd never seen a man so emotionally hurt before.

As he approached me, I could see that he forced a smile upon his defined features; a smile that just screamed "I'm not okay".

"Morning Tino…" He greeted, wrapping his arms around me gently in a soft embrace. I brought my arms up to encircle his chest, hugging him back with what strength I could muster. He leaned down and gave me a light kiss on the lips before letting go of me.

"Man, don't we all look like hell." I heard a Danish accent cheerfully say from the entrance to the medical tent. It was Mathias.

"War does that to people." Lukas replied as the always-happy Dane wrapped his arms around the Norwegian doctor's waist, holding him loosely.

"So how are we going to get to Finland before the attack safely? I mean… The Finnish and Danish forces at the camp just outside of Pajala have got to have noticed that Tino and I are gone. We're basically MIA right now. So how are we going to get there?" Mathias questioned.

"Don't worry. I informed the General of the Swedish Armed Forces that you three are free to leave the area due to injuries and due to the fact that you were traitors to your homelands, and that the men stationed in Pajala are to be evacuated to a safe location. The order should be given to start the evacuation soon. Once the evacuation starts, you three are to board an unmarked helicopter flown by a civilian pilot, and dropped off just over the Finnish border." Lukas answered.

"Luke, can I ask just how much authority you have over the Swedes?" Mathias probed.

"I have quite a bit of authority, actually. I am the only medic in the Pajala area, and am the only civilian volunteer for their benefit. They have to protect me since they don't want to have any civilian casualties in this war, which means I have some form of jurisdiction to what they do."

"Back to the point; what if this evacuation doesn't happen and the Finns and the Danes make it here and attack?" I asked.

"Then this place will be a massacre. You Finns outnumber the Swedes in Pajala by over three-thousand men, and then you add the Danes to that. There are only two-thousand Swedes who are able to defend the area at the moment. If the attack happens… the battle will be deemed a massacre, a total loss. But the Swedes are proud men, and will fight to the last bullet. All two-thousand of them will die fighting if they have to."

"He's right." Berwald added. "W' were all trained t' fight t' th' last breath, and never b' cowards and run in th' face of th' enemy."

"But isn't that essentially what you're doing if you evacuate?" I inquired.

"Well… It's differ'nt if it's a planned retreat. M' soldiers are not cowards for following orders." My Swedish lover replied.

"So what are we supposed to do until the order is given to start the evacuation and we can leave?" Mathias changed the subject quickly.

"Just sit around, I suppose." Lukas said, leaning his head back onto the shoulder of his Danish paramour.

His words are what we did for three hours; meander around camp and talk amongst ourselves. There were now two hours until noon, the time when the attack was planned to happen. The evacuation should have happened a while ago, but no order had been given. It seemed everyone was just doing the same thing as usual. Guarding the camp, sleeping, eating, polishing weapons… No one was preparing for an attack, or getting ready to leave.

"Shouldn't the order have been given by now?" Mathias questioned Lukas, whom looked deep in thought.

"Yes, it should have. But it hasn't. I believe…. I believe that the order is never going to be given. I think the General wants to try to fight back against the oncoming attack." The Norwegian answered.

"And what becomes of the plan of us leaving if the evacuation doesn't happen?" I asked.

"… You guys have to leave before the attack or you will be killed. Evacuation or not, I'm getting you three on a helicopter." Lukas sounded more determined than usual to get us to safety.

"Wait, back up here for a moment. Why the hell aren't you coming with us?" Mathias asked his lover, obviously worried.

"I'm not going because I still have to do my duty. I am a medic, and the only one for the Swedes up here. I know there are going to be men hurt, so I can't just leave. You must understand that I have an obligation to these potential patients. If I left and they got hurt, no one would be around with the proper training to save them. I could not live with the fact that I let someone die."

"_What?_ Lukas, are you out of your mind? You'll get killed out here!" Mathias protested.

"I will not." Lukas snapped back. "I am not as defenseless as you think I am."

"But Luke… Please… Don't put me through this kind of torture." I could practically see the confusion and sadness in the Generalløjtnant's eyes, and could hear it in his voice.

"Just leave with Berwald and Tino, Mathias. I'll be fine; I promise."

"Lukas…"

"Just head to the helicopter landing zone to the south just outside camp, alright? I'll inform a pilot to take you three to Finland."

I knew that Lukas wanted to leave so bad. I knew he wanted to be somewhere safe and with Mathias, but he _did_ have an obligation to the Swedish soldiers. He was their only medic in the Pajala area. Two-thousand soldiers would be fighting, and a lot of them would get hurt. It was his job to heal them, to save them. I had to give him credit for being so loyal to his position as a doctor.

"Come on, Mathias. There's n' changing Lukas' mind. W' have t' get out of here before th' attack happens." Berwald said, placing a hand on the shoulder of the dismayed Dane, whom was simply staring at Lukas.

"Lukas, are you sure you want to stay behind?" Mathias questioned one last time, even if it was useless. Lukas' mind was made up.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now go. You'll see me again soon." The Norwegian doctor responded, hugging Mathias for a brief moment before allowing the Dane to give him a bittersweet kiss. The two lovers embraced for a few moments before Lukas forced himself to let go of Mathias and head to the entrance of the medical tent. He stopped just before he went in to glance back at Mathias for only just a moment, before disappearing into the dimly lit tent.

"Let's go." Mathias said, a melancholy tone clinging to his voice. Berwald and I both nodded, and my Swedish boyfriend led the way to the helicopter landing zone.

Just as we arrived at the area, a pilot approached us.

"You three the ones being transported to Finland?" He questioned.

"Yes." Berwald answered.

"Alright. Come with me." The pilot motioned for us to follow and headed over to an unmarked helicopter. We all got in the gray aircraft and buckled ourselves up. As the helicopter took off, rising in the air, Mathias stared out the window as Camp Låssmed came completely in view from the sky. I knew what he was undergoing. It was how I had felt when Berwald had left me to fight the war.

I reached over from my seat and placed a hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort the upset man. He glanced to me, then to my hand, then back out the window. He was inconsolable at this point, even if no tears had been shed by him or his Norwegian love. It was true; Lukas could die down there in the attack. All we could do was wait and see if the doctor survived.

When we neared the Finnish border, I knew something was up. The pilot was receiving Finnish messages over the radio to land; but the Swedish pilot didn't understand.

"_Unknown aircraft; identify yourself and land in Camp Raw-Hide or be shot down."_ I listened to the Finnish message and almost panicked.

"Pilot, they're telling you to identify yourself and land in a Camp or be shot down!" I informed the man driving the helicopter. The Swedish pilot quickly responded over the radio.

"This is Korpral Flygare Dag Kallman of the Swedish Armed Forces. I am transporting three passengers over the border who belong to the Finnish and Danish Armed Forces. Give me coordinates, and I will land where needed."

"_Korpral Kallman, this is Ylikersantti Ismo Jarvinen. Land your helicopter just south of Kolari in Camp Raaka-piiloutua. It should be fairly obvious once it comes into view. Our soldiers will be waiting for you." _The Finnish man ordering the pilot spoke English this time so that the Swede could understand the commands given.

"Can do, Jarvinen." Korpral Kallman said.

Soon, we found ourselves landing in the camp I had once been stationed in, Finnish soldiers surrounding us as we exited the chopper. The Swede piloting the helicopter was allowed to depart, leaving Berwald, Mathias, and I on the ground.

"You three, why were you in that helicopter coming from the Pajala area?" A highly-ranked officer questioned as he approached us.

"We were captured, but were allowed to leave after some events that happened." I explained.

"State your full names, ranks, and assigned camps, if you will." The man ordered.

"I am Korpraali Tino Väinämöinen, assigned to Camp Raaka-piiloutua."

"I am Generalløjtnant Mathias Køhler of Denmark, leader of the Danish Defence in Finland."

"I am Berwald Oxenstierna; former Överstelöjtnant previously assigned t' Camp Låssmed, now a traitor t' th' Swedish Armed Forces for attacking m' own soldier in defense of a Finn."

The Finnish man looked shocked at what Berwald had said.

"Well… That's surprising to say the least. Oxenstierna, you know the exact layout of Camp Låssmed and the surrounding area, correct?"

"Yes, I d'."

"I want you to lead our foot soldiers into the fray at noon. If you are already a traitor to the Swedes, you may as well side with their enemy; us Finns."

"Sir, I'd rather not. I wish t' stay out of th' war for now."

"I'm sorry, but that's not an option. I gave you an order, Oxenstierna."

"But-"

"You two will also be with our foot soldiers at noon." The Finnish man said, interrupting Berwald.

"Sir, I hate to inform you of this, but I'm injured. I was shot in the shoulder and in the neck during my capture." I said. The other Finn crossed his arms and looked to me.

"We have men whom have worse injuries than that fighting at the moment. You will be with your fellow soldiers when the attack occurs." The man then looked to Mathias. "I shouldn't have to say anything to you, Generalløjtnant. You have your orders to lead the Danes here in Finland." He said.

"That I do. I intend to lead them to the best of my ability." Mathias responded, trying to sound confident.

"Well, Berwald and Tino, you have to stay in camp until the attack is initiated. Mathias, you are free to do as you please, but I trust we have your direct assistance at noon." The Finnish man said before walking off. Mathias sighed heavily.

"I have to head back over the border to be with my troops. You two be careful during the attack, alright?" He said, looking to Berwald and I. I nodded and placed my hand on his shoulder.

"We will be. You just do what you have to do to make sure Lukas makes it out alive. I know what you're going through, and it won't be easy. But you have to say strong for your troops and for yourself." My words must have touched him, because I soon found myself embraced tightly by the Danish man. When he let go, he looked me in the eyes.

"Thank you, Tino. That helps… Far more than you can imagine." He spoke, a smile now brandishing his face. I smiled a bit as well and saluted the Generalløjtnant, straightening my posture in a form of respect for the man. He saluted back, then turned to Berwald and saluted him as well. Berwald seemed a bit shocked at the salute, but regardless, returned the gesture.

"Korpraali, Överstelöjtnant, I bid you two farewell for now." With that, the Dane turned and left the area.

Berwald and I looked to eachother, and with a light sigh, I grabbed his uninjured hand.

"He's going through the exact same hell we went through." I muttered.

"Yes, he is… I think he'll find a way t' get through it though. He may or may not have a happy ending t' this situation, but who's t' say that it won't go well? I may not know him very well, but I know he's smarter than he looks." Berwald responded.

"Yeah…"

"Hey Tino…?"

"Hm?"

"Promise me that you'll be right beside m' when th' attack happens. I don't want to worry about y' getting hurt when I'm not there."

"I don't know if that's something I can promise, Berwald. I may get orders that send me away from you."

"At least promise m' y' won't get killed." He said, looking me dead in the eyes. I bit my lip; I couldn't promise that either. Even if the Swedes in Pajala were outnumbered, there would be casualties on both sides. One of those casualties could be me.

"I… I can't promise that either."

"Tino, please… Just promise m' something… I feel s' apprehensive… I almost watched y' die once, I don't want it t' actually happen…"

"I know something I can promise you."

"If I do receive orders that send me away from you, even for only a few moments, I'll kiss you. Just to make sure that if I do get killed, you have my goodbye."

Berwald looked down, then back up to me, nodding slightly.

"It's better than nothing." He said, pulling me into a gentle hug. His embrace was so warm, unlike the cold environment around us. I felt so safe wrapped in the arms of my love; but this was war.

Safety and comfort were only temporary, and they would always be that way.

**xxx**

I kind of struggled to wrap up this chapter in my state of tiredness, so please don't kill me if it sucks. Honestly, I couldn't tell if it's horrible if I wanted to. There could be thousands of typos in there, and I wouldn't notice. Damn you school and your horrid ways of making me oblivious and tired!

Next chapter probably won't be up for some while, by the way.

Please review! – Raivis-Latvijas


	7. Bridges and Bodies

**A/N: **I don't really have much to say, so let's just get straight to the story. Oui?

**xxx**

When noon had come around the signal to initiate the attack was given by the General of the Finnish Armed Forces, and every soldier who could fight was given an assault rifle and began boarding arriving transport vehicles that reeked of blood and bodies. I figured they were used to transport the dead or dying to their respective places. It really wasn't the most sanitary place to be.

Berwald and I had been given new uniforms to change into; ones that looked to have been worn before, simply patched up and washed before being given to a new soldier. The insignia on our shoulders were simply those of the Korpraali; equivalent to a private. Though the ones in charge of the uniforms had sewn a crudely made Swedish flag under Berwald's insignia, it made almost no difference. He actually looked like he could pass for a Finnish soldier.

We boarded one of the arriving transport vehicles, a Sisu XA-185* to be exact, with a group of soldiers with of varying ages. They all looked weak and deprived of sleep, unshaven and unclean. I could say the same for Berwald and myself; though we weren't quite as sleep deprived as some of these men looked to be. We had actually been able to rest back when we were in Camp Låssmed, despite our injuries.

I looked around to the 16 other soldiers in the armored vehicle, noting that many of them were in fact injured. One man even had bandages wrapped around his head and covering his right eye. He was a young man, probably no older than twenty.

As the vehicle began to move, I began to wonder how Berwald was feeling about this. He was dressed as a Finnish soldier, carrying a Finnish weapon, surrounded by my countrymen, about to assist in an invasion of his homeland. He was punished for being a traitor already when he was beat up by his own soldiers in Camp Låssmed, but this must have been like further punishment, having to attack his own men and assist those whom were once his enemy. It was actually very hard to tell what Berwald was thinking. His faced showed next to no emotion, and his body language was just like everyone else's; tense. There was no telling what was going through my Swedish boyfriends head.

When the transport finally stopped, presumably just outside Pajala, a high-ranked Finnish man stood and began to speak.

"Alright men… This attack could make or break the Finnish operations in Sweden. We absolutely have to take Pajala, or else we could lose this war. There are an estimated two-thousand Swedes protecting the area, many of those two-thousand are of the elite Långtradare. We outnumber them, with five-thousand Finnish soldiers at our disposal, and along with that, five-hundred Danish soldiers and a Danish Special Operations Unit. We also have former Överstelöjtnant of the Swedish Armed Forces Berwald Oxenstierna here to lead you on foot through the Pajala area, which he knows well. Our target is Camp Låssmed, which we predict will be heavily defended. We are to go in, eliminate any and all Swedish soldiers in the city, and secure the area. Does anyone have any questions?"

"Sir, how many estimated Långtradare would you say are in Pajala?" One soldier asked.

"At least 400, if not more." The higher-ranked Finn replied. "Anyone else have any questions?"

No more questions were asked, so the Finnish man nodded slightly and spoke again to wrap up his briefing.

"This is a last-ditch effort to stay afloat in this war. You men; loyal Finnish men, will determine whether or not this victory is achieved. Out of all the fighting, all the battles that have been held along the border, this is the most important. Give those Swedes hell."

With that, the back doors of the transport were opened and all 18 passengers, including Berwald and I, hurried out onto the cold, hard ground. We could hear gunshots already, blending with the sounds of the helicopters overhead, the many, many vehicles arriving at the area.

"We're under your lead, Oxenstierna! Get us to Camp Låssmed!" The high-ranking Finnish man practically had to shout to be heard. Berwald nodded and looked around, holding his PIST 2003 tightly in his uninjured hand. He began moving quickly towards the bridge that led into Pajala, our group of soldiers following.

"W' have t' get across this bridge! Camp Låssmed is on th' other side of th' river where the Synoptik building once was!" He shouted. When we approached the bridge, we realized it was heavily guarded on the other side. There were at least ten Långtradare and at least twenty standard soldiers on the other side waiting for us to come in range.

We began to go down the bridge, and began to take cover behind parked half-destroyed cars, when the roaring sound of three jet fighters flying over us occurred.

Everyone looked up, and noticed the insignia on the planes. They were Norwegian F-16 fighters. The Norwegians had officially joined the fight, if they were flying jet fighters over Pajala like that.

Unexpectedly, the Norwegian fighters were soon followed by a slur of around six German Panavia Tornado fighters, and two French Dassault Rafale fighters.**

"Fuck…" Berwald cursed, watching as the fighters started to fire at Finnish helicopters.

"Berwald, you never said anything about the Swedish Armed Forces having allies!" I said.

"I didn't know th' alliances were final! All I knew was that th' requests were sent, but not accepted! This means th' Swedish Forces have an equal chance of winning this fight!"

"Who in all are the Swedes allied with?" One of the Finnish soldiers questioned Berwald.

"Norway, Germany, France, and Iceland; s' far I only see Norwegians, Germans, and th' French, s' Iceland must not have joined in." My Swedish boyfriend responded.

"Where the hell are the Danes? I don't see a single Danish soldier around!" A different Finn commented.

"They should b' here within a matter of minutes!" Berwald practically had to yell as the fighter planes roared over us once again, this time firing at the Finnish helicopters that were entering the area.

He peeked over the car we were ducking behind, flinching and going back into cover as bullets pinged against the metal hood. He took a deep breath before giving some orders.

"We need t' split up s' that they don't take us all out immediately; y' eight come with m', everyone else stay here." He motioned for seven of my fellow Finns and I to follow him, and soon we found ourselves rushing from parked car to parked car, making our way to the other end of the bridge.

"Give m' some cover fire!" Berwald shouted as he took a frag grenade off his belt. We listened and fired at the Swedes at the other end of the bridge, becoming a distraction while pulled the pin on the grenade and stood. He chucked the explosive at his fellow Swedes before ducking back behind cover.

A loud explosion rang out, followed by a few even louder ones. The cars that the Swedes were behind must have blown up.

Berwald looked to the Finns whom were waiting at the opposite side of the bridge and motioned for them to move forwards and regroup with us. They surged forward quickly, ducking behind cars very few moments to escape some stray fire that came from the opposing Swedes. Once they got to us, Berwald glanced over the car we were behind and watched as the Långtradare that had been knocked down by the explosions got up slowly.

"Shoot at th' Långtradare's necks! It's their only weak point!" Berwald shouted. As it turned out, that was the truth. The Långtradare's necks weren't protected, and bullets easily penetrated the exposed skin. We soon found what was left of the Swedish resistance retreating into the city, leaving us to gain ground and cross the bridge.

Our group moved to the end of the bridge, stopping at the end to try to communicate over radio with other Finnish forces. One of the soldiers managed to get contact with a Communications station set up on the other side of the bridge near where our group had been dropped off.

"Comm. Station One, this is Berwald Oxenstierna, do y' read m'?" Berwald questioned through the radio, making sure the connection was liable.

"_Loud and clear, Oxenstierna." _The response came.

"We've secured th' bridge to pass into Pajala. W' need troops t' come down and keep it while m' group moves forward to continue th' mission."

"_We'll send some troops to your position. Hold the bridge until they arrive. Keep contact with us; if you encounter retaliation from the opposing soldiers, defend the position."_

"Copy that." Berwald turned to us soldiers. "Y' heard the man; we have t' defend until more Finns arrive t' keep th' bridge." He said.

"How long will that take?" One of the soldiers questioned.

"I'm not t' sure-" Berwald was cut off by the exploding of the center of the bridge caused by missiles fired from the fighter planes above.

"Shit!" My Swedish lover cursed, hastily trying to make radio contact again with the Comm. Station. "Comm. Station One, this is Oxenstierna, do you read me?"

No answer was received; but Berwald was persistent and tried a few more times.

"Comm. Station One, do y' read m'?"

Nothing.

"Comm. Station One, do y' read m'?"

Still not a sound.

"Command Station One, respond! Do y' read m'?"

No response was given, and we were left to make a decision. It was either continue forward into Pajala without anyone knowing of our whereabouts, or stay at our position at the now un-crossable bridge and try to gain radio contact with other Finns in the area.

"What's the plan, Berwald?" I asked.

"I want six Finns t' stay here and keep trying t' get contact with th' Finns on th' other side of th' bridge. Th' rest of us will continue forward." He explained to our squad. A few Finnish soldiers stepped away from the group as a signal that they were going to stay behind and try to communicate with those across the bridge. Two others joined them, making up the six that were staying behind.

"Let's go." Berwald said, crouching down and hurrying down the road to our right. What we saw on the road shocked us; there were bodies of around forty Swedish soldiers, all shot in either the head or neck, laying in various places on the ground.

"Who the hell took these guys out?" One of the Finns near me asked.

"I don't know. Stay on your toes though, we may not be safe…" I replied, very suspicious of what was going on. We hadn't heard any shooting coming from this area, nor seen this many soldiers out here when we were crossing the bridge.

We all raised our weapons as a single Swedish soldier stood from a bush and started running across the street, looking terrified. When we noticed how scared he looked and how beat up he was, we lowered our weapons. He was unarmed, and looked to be shot in both hands.

"Wait, stop running!" Berwald shouted. The man froze and turned around, crying out a bit, scared to death of us.

"P-Please don't shoot, I swear, I-I can't fight back! Oh God, I-I don't want to die!" He begged, raising his wounded hands in the air in a surrendering position. Now that I got a good look at him, he wasn't much of a man at all. He hardly looked sixteen. Berwald approached the young Swede.

"What is your name, soldier?" He questioned.

"B-Blasius. Blasius W-Westerholm."

"How old are y', Blasius?"

"E-Eighteen."

Berwald gave the kid a stern look, which obviously meant that he knew Blasius wasn't telling the truth.

"A-Alright, alright, p-please don't kill me! I-I'm only sixteen. Th-The recruiters were desperate, a-and I just wanted t-to help! Th-They made me do c-communications, which I w-was happy with; b-but I didn't know I would end u-up here! Th-There's some sniper u-up on the rooftops; I-I jammed Finnish radar and communication systems n-not even two minutes ago, a-and he spotted me placing the electronics… H-He shot my hands, a-and then o-out of nowhere we were j-just bombarded by sniper fire. F-Five or six snipers; I-I'm not sure how many. Th-They're here though, I-I don't think they're going to kill m-me…" The teenager blurted out everything to Berwald, obviously not wanting to receive the same glare he had gotten.

"Snipers? Those must be…" I trailed off, eyes scanning the rooftops of nearby homes. When I caught some movement, I noticed there was an ingeniously camouflaged man there, dressed all in black to match the color of the shingles.

Just then, an unidentified person wearing a ghillie suit emerged from nearby tall grass, carrying a camouflaged sniper rifle.

"Shouldn't you guys be, oh I don't know, continuing your mission instead of interrogating this Swede?" I was shocked by the voice that came from the camouflaged man. It was Mathias.

"When the hell did you get here, Mathias?" I asked, stunned.

"I've been here since… About an hour ago, I think. Snuck in here with Spec Ops Unit K, got on the rooftops without being sighted, and waited to ambush any group of Swedes that came our way. My Unit and I have been watching you ever since you got here." The Dane responded.

"Where are th' rest of th' Danish Forces?" Berwald asked.

"They are on their way. They had just left Lappea when the bridge got blown up."

"C-Can I leave…?" Blasius cut into the conversation quietly.

"No. What I want y' t' do, Blasius, is remove whatever electronics y' put out that are jamming Finnish communications and radar. When you're done with that, I want y' to go t' th' end of th' bridge and set up a Comm. Station for th' Finns." Berwald replied.

"B-But I don't w-want to be a traitor!" Blasius retorted.

"Blasius, let m' ask y' a question. Do I sound Finnish t' y'?"

"W-Well… Not r-really…"

"Exactly. Ever heard th' name Överstelöjtnant Oxenstierna?"

"H-He was a high-ranking guy who was banned from th-the Swedish Army f-for being a traitor, right?"

"Yes. Now, can y' take a guess at who I am?"

"A-Are you… Former Överstelöjtnant Oxenstierna…?"

"Yes."

"… I-I… Okay… Consider m-me under your command f-for the time being… B-But is there a medic somewhere…? M-My hands…"

"I'm a medic." One of my fellow Finns said, coming out of the group with his hand raised.

"What's your name?" Berwald questioned.

"I'm Medic Ville Toikka."

Berwald placed a hand on the shoulder of Blasius and motioned to Medic Toikka with his other.

"Go with him back t' th' bridge. He'll fix your hands up enough so that y' can use them." He instructed. Blasius nodded and headed off to the bridge with my Finnish comrade; the only medic we had for our group was now gone, taking care of an injured Swedish teenager so that we could have our communications and radar systems back online.

"Mathias, tell your men to cover us while we head into th' city. We're going t' need all th' help we can get from y' guys." Berwald now turned to Mathias, whom was removing the ghillie suit from overtop of his uniform.

"I'll tell my Unit to do so. I'll be coming with you guys to attack the Camp so I can make sure Lukas doesn't get hurt." Mathias said as he handed off his sniper rifle to one of the Finnish men close to him. He pulled a pistol off a holster on his thigh and checked the ammo in the magazine before shoving it back in and pulling the slide back, loading a round into the chamber. He then grabbed a small radio off his hip and spoke some Danish into it, probably giving his unit orders and information. When he placed the radio back on his hip, he smirked and looked to Berwald.

"Lead the way, Oxenstierna."

xxx

*A common Finnish Armored Personell Carrier. I don't have too much information on these.

**Standard fighter jets of the said nations.


	8. Communication

**A/N: **This chapter is full of action and even some angst! How exciting.

Oh, and just a little note: I had so much fun making names for all the different planes and stuff in this chapter. Each helicopter/plane/tank has it's own call-sign, assigned in order to keep track of who is who on the battlefield.

And before we get started, let me just inform you that there are a lot of times when conversations are held over radios in this chapter. Anything that is being spoken to one of the characters through their radio will be in italics. I understand that in war, radio communication plays a very important role in relaying information and keeping track of where soldiers are. Now with Berwald having command of the Finns since he's the only one who knows the exact layout of Pajala, he receives a lot of information, and gives out a lot of information. Mathias, being the leader of the Danish forces, must know where everyone is, what everyone is doing, and he must give orders to those whom he commands.

I hope that's not all too confusing. Let's get to the story.

**xxx**

With little hesitation, Berwald lead us deeper into Pajala, heading along the streets towards Camp Låssmed. There were Swedes everywhere, in the houses, in the buildings; everywhere.

We hurried down a street, taking cover behind a parked truck so that some opposing soldiers about fifty feet away didn't have a clear shot at us. We were a bit surprised though when a group of around ten Långtradare came out from a nearby building, Kulspruta 88's in hand.

"Get t' cover!" Berwald shouted to anyone whom was straying away from the cover of a vehicle. The Långtradare began to unload on us, bullet after bullet speeding towards us in a seemingly endless cycle. Once on had to reload, another took his spot and fired.

I watched as one of my fellow Finnish soldiers stood up a bit to try to shoot back at the opposing Swedes, but he was immediately riddled with bullets. He was dead before he even hit the ground.

"Jyri!" One of the other Finns shouted in shock, doing his best to stay in cover and check on the body of whom I was assuming was his fallen friend. It was a bad choice, because he was nailed right in the side of the head by a bullet, fragments of his skull scattering the ground.

"Shit, come on guys, what the hell are you doing up there?" Mathias questioned through his radio.

"_Generalløjtnant…" _Heavy static came through, blotting out some of the words Mathias' comrade spoke._ "… been found…" _More static. _"… Stig, Bjørn, and Knud are dead…" _The words then stopped completely after more static and a complete loss of connection to the other radio.

"Shit… Looks like Spec Ops Unit K is down to just me." Mathias said, flinching slightly as a bullet pinged off the hood of the car he was ducking behind. The Långtradare just weren't stopping with their barrage of bullets.

Suddenly, a new voice came onto the Danish Generalløjtnant's radio.

"_Generalløjtnant, this is armed Westland Lynx helicopter call-sign "Northern Siren 5-3"; here to assist. Give us your orders."_

Finally, Danish backup had arrived.

"Northern Siren, a group of Finns and I are being held down by Swedish opposition towards the southeast end of the city. Take out the Swedes so we can continue into Pajala." Mathias ordered quickly.

"_Got it."_

We soon found a helicopter hovering over our heads with its guns firing rapidly at the Långtradare. Mathias cheered loudly and raised a fist up in the air.

"That's what I'm talking about! Nice work Northern Siren!" He praised through his radio.

"_It's our job, Generalløjtnant. We're going to continue to assist; just say the word if you need it."_

"Let's move on further into the city, men." Berwald said, standing and leading us towards Camp Låssmed. The 8 remaining Finnish soldiers, Mathias, and I, followed without hesitation.

We all looked up as the fighter jets from before passed over us again, this time 8 of the 11 of them smoking at the wings. We all watched as 15 Danish F-16 fighters passed over us in hot pursuit of the opposing fighters. It was an amazing thing, to think the Danes were giver more support than they had originally listed in their alliance document.

"_Generalløjtnant, this is F-16 fighter call-sign "Overlord 3-9" of fighter wing Red Thunder. We'll keep the other aircraft occupied while you advance." _One of the Danish pilot's voices came over Mathias' radio as we continued down the street.

"Keep in touch, Overlord." Mathias responded.

"_Can do."_

When we arrived at a church, we noticed a group of civilians retreating inside. It was a family, from what I saw. There was a young boy whom was probably younger than ten, his mother and father, and two elderly people whom I assumed were his grandparents.

"Berwald, there are civilians in there… I thought all civilians would have been evacuated." I said.

"That's what I thought t'… Come on, let's head in there. I hate t' use a church for cover in th' midst of a war, but we can't just leave th' civilians in there." Berwald responded, heading towards the church. We entered through the doors with ease, to the gasps and whimpering of many more civilians than what we had seen.

Once we were all in the church, we shut the doors behind us and blocked them temporarily. We all stared in shock at how many people were trembling in fear; hiding in the only sacred place in Pajala at the moment.

"Why are y' all still here?" Berwald questioned, looking to each and every one of them. There were young children, even one or two infants here. I was just as confused as the rest of us soldiers as to why they would all be here.

An elderly man steppe forward, using a cane to walk. His beady eyes looked up at my Swedish boyfriend with sadness and confusion.

"We've been stuck in here for days… The new commanding men at Camp Låssmed told us that it's still too dangerous to leave… Why… Why are we being treated as so, former Överstelöjtnant…? Our children are hungry, and we cannot bear to stay in this place much longer… Why are your former men not letting us go?" He questioned. Berwald seemed taken aback by the old man's words, obviously unsure of how to respond. The senior man knew that Berwald had been Överstelöjtnant previously, so they must have had some sort of contact prior to Berwald's treason.

"I… I do not know, sir… Before I was accused of being a traitor, I told m' superior officer t' let y' go t' western Pajala t' get out without th' Finns being able t' stop y'… He must not have listened…" Berwald responded quietly.

"Please… Help us get out of here, Överstelöjtnant… We checked to see if it was safe outside, but it wasn't at all… Please…" A woman spoke up; I recognized her to be the mother that we had seen entering the church.

"… I only have ten men with m'… Only eight that I can command… I can't send all m' men to escort y'." Berwald replied quietly; an overbearing silence following his words.

"_Generalløjtnant, this is Leopard 2A5 DK call-sign "Circuit Breaker"; along with call-sign "Haymaker", escorting 50 Danish foot soldiers. What is your location?" _Mathias' radio interrupted the quietness of the church.

"Circuit Breaker, I'm in the church northwest of the Danish command post with a large group of Swedish civilians. I need twenty soldiers here A.S.A.P. to escort these people out of Pajala and to a safe area. There are young children, infants, and the elderly here. Keep weapons on safe; I want no civilian casualties whatsoever. I repeat, I am with a large group of civilians northeast of your position in the church; young children, infants, and elderly present; I need twenty soldiers with weapons cold able to escort them out of the danger zone."

"_Copy that. E.T.A.; ten minutes. I'll relay back to D.C.P.-1 the info."*_

"Alright. Remember, weapons cold on arrival and during the escort."

"_Copy that."_

"Berwald, I'm having my Danes get these civilians out of here. No need to worry." Mathias told my Swedish lover.

"Thank y', Mathias." Berwald turned to the civilians. "For those of y' whom did not hear th' conversation over th' radio, there are Danish soldiers on th' way t' escort you all out of Pajala." He spoke.

After about ten minutes, like the Danes had estimated, they arrived. We allowed the civilians outside into the raging battlefield of Pajala. Twenty Danes broke off from the pack and began to lead the Swedish civilians towards where I assumed the Danish command post was. That left us with eight Finnish soldiers, thirty Danish soldiers, two tanks, a helicopter, Danish jet fighters, one Danish commanding officer, one Swedish traitor, and me. We had a large group that was capable of continuing into the city without having to hesitate.

We stood outside the church on the street as Mathias began speaking to the Danes.

"Alright men. We are to follow any and all orders of this man right here," he motioned to Berwald. "He is a former high-ranking officer of the Swedish Armed Forces, whom knows this area very well. Protect him at all costs. We offered our assistance to Finland so that we could end this war; so let's do it. We cannot hesitate to do what we stepped up to do. Show these Finns our capabilities, don't hold back. Oxenstierna," the Danish man looked to Berwald. "What are your orders?"

"Follow m'." Berwald responded, starting to head down the street quickly. We all followed him, heading down the street as Finnish and Danish helicopters flew overhead, fighting in the air with opposing soldiers both on the ground and in the air. The fighter jets above circled the city, dog fighting with whomever they were chasing at incredibly high speeds.

"About five streets down is th' camp. It'll be-" Berwald was cut off from his speaking as an RPG rocket flew by us and slammed right into the side of the tank called "Haymaker". The tank, though damaged, continued on moving, main gun rotating to find the source of the RPG shot.

"Spread out, get to cover!" Mathias shouted. We were soon spanning a large area hiding behind houses and in foliage nearby. We watched as around sixty Swedish soldiers made their way down the street, followed by around twenty Långtradare and three tanks. We found ourselves being fired at by the opposing soldiers, our men dropping like flies. RPG rounds were screeching through the air, along with tank rounds and grenades. They were really trying to get rid of our group.

"Return fire, return fire!" Berwald shouted. Mathias, crouching next to me as we both avoided heavy fire behind a house, began to give rapid orders through his radio.

"Northern Siren 5-3, I need assistance from all available air forces that can take out ground troops and tanks. We've got nearly one-hundred Swedes holding us down just inside the city. I'm requesting missile fire, danger close. I repeat, I'm requesting missile fire, danger close."**

"_Copy that. I have an eye on your location; laying down the hurt."_

Just as we spotted "Northern Siren" above, it was fired at by a slur of RPG rounds before it could fire it's missiles at the Swedes. Two of the RPG's struck, one at the end of the tail, one at the base.

"Northern Siren, can you hold her up?" Mathias questioned.

"_Negative. We're going down."_

As the pilot said they were, we watched as the helicopter crash-landed after going into a deadly spin. It exploded, and I assumed that no one had survived.

"Is there any air support that can give missile fire at the southeast end of the city?" Mathias questioned over his radio, almost panicked. The Swedes were closing in, still firing heavily. Our numbers were dropping, and theirs were not.

"_Generalløjtnant, this is F-16 fighter call-sign "Jester" of fighter wing Red Thunder. I am available to assist; what is your order?"_

"Jester, I need missile fire, danger close, at the southeast end of the city. We're being held down by around one-hundred Swedes, and are dropping like flies."

"_Could you light a flare to indicate your position?"_

"Yes. Standby." Mathias said, reaching down to his belt. He pulled a signal flare from it and quickly lit it, holding it in the air. "Alright, I've got it lit."

"_Copy that, Generalløjtnant, I've got eyes on your position. Standby for bombing run down the street."_

Mathias turned to his soldiers. "Stay off the street!" He shouted; his soldiers listened and retreated to the cover of the houses nearby.

We watched as a single fighter holding a low altitude, flew down the length of the street, dropping it's deadly cargo on the Swedish opposition. It was deafening, the explosions from the bombs and the roar of the aircraft's engine. Mathias cheered.

"Hell yeah, nice work Jester!"

"_Bombing run complete. Avoiding enemy fighters. E.T.A. until availability twenty-plus minutes."_

"Copy that."

We all started to come out of our cover to inspect the damage done by "Jester". The ground was strewn with the bodies of the Swedish soldiers, and the ones whom survived were retreating. The tanks were destroyed, and the immediate threat was gone.

"Don't let them get away to the camp. They'll just re-supply and get back out here to kill us." Berwald said, firing his pistol at the backs of the retreating soldiers. We all followed the order, and eliminated the retreating soldiers before they got far.

We had lost quite a few soldiers in the skirmish before the fighter jet had taken out the Swedes. We started off with 41 people on foot, two tanks, and a helicopter. Now all we had was 28 soldier, one tank, and no helicopter available. 4 of the 28 were Finnish soldiers, including me. The other 24 were Danes, including Mathias, and Berwald. The only tank that was left was the one with the call-sign "Circuit Breaker", which was heavily damaged and unable to move very efficiently.

"Circuit Breaker, can you continue?" Mathias questioned through his radio.

"_Slowly but surely. Treads are damaged, armor condition is low, but the main gun works and we can move; we'll make it for a bit longer."_

"Alright. Feel free to drop back for repairs if you feel the need to do so." Mathias said.

"_Oxenstierna, this is Finnish Command Station 2 on the northwest side of the city. We have the rest of the Finnish forces coming down to Camp Låssmed . How many Finnish soldiers do you have with you?" _Berwald's radio finally made some noise. Blasius must have gotten the communications and radar jamming equipment out of function. We now had contact with the other Finns in Pajala.

"We have four Finns here. But we have contact with the Danish forces here in the southeastern part of the city. My group currently consists of a number of Danish soldiers, the commanding Danish officer, a heavily damaged Danish tank, four Finnish soldiers, and myself. We're two streets away from Camp Låssmed at the moment, so we are going to continue ahead to start the assault on it."

"_Copy that. Keep us informed of your numbers. We're currently sending the rest of the Finns down to the camp to support. Once they arrive, be sure to make contact with us."_

"Copy that."

Not soon after that, we were continuing down the streets, finding ourselves in view of Camp Låssmed. It was very, very heavily defended. There were concrete barricades set up to prevent tanks from getting too close, there must have been the rest of the Långtradare holed up in the camp along with a lot of the Swedish soldiers, and not to mention; Lukas.

"This is it men. Camp Låssmed is now within our view. Let's take this place." Berwald said, heading forward, taking cover behind a destroyed APC.*** A large portion of our group could fit behind it, others able to take cover in nearby alleyways and buildings.

We fired our assault rifles at the soldiers awaiting us, killing off a few before they noticed us and started firing back. A jet fighter of Danish alliance crashed on the other side of camp, shot down by a Norwegian fighter which screamed by; damaged by another fighter.

"This is complete madness! We're going to die out here!" I head one of my fellow Finns shout. He was the one whom I had seen on the APC I had arrived in; the young guy with the bandages over his eye.

"What kind of an attitude is that? Stay positive soldier, you've survived fighting before!" I replied, taken aback by his negativity.

"I was in the very first attack on Pajala; the Swedes weren't nearly as reinforced as this and we Finns still lost!"

"But we have allies now! We have the Danish Defence here to aid us!"

"And the Swedes have Germany, France, and Norway to assist them! Face it, we're screwed like a bolt in the wall!"

"No! We are not! We just have to keep fighting!"

"I'd rather die than have to watch my comrades fall one by one again!"

I went silent, stunned by the young man beside me. He would rather die than go through with this attack, because he figured we were going to fail our mission again.

"What have you ever done to deserve all of this? Think; we didn't even start this war and yet we're invading Sweden! It's just so fucking wrong! I don't understand why we keep fighting like this! We have no reason to become the aggressors!"

"We're doing this not because we have to, but because we need to! Our nation is in danger; if we don't fight back, we can consider Finland to be a Swedish territory!" I finally responded.

"But do we seriously have to invade Sweden? Honestly! They started this war and invaded us months ago; and we pushed them back into Pajala! Why can't we just protect our country from our side of the border?"

"Hey! Both of you shut the fuck up and return fire at the Swedes! Whether you want to fight or not; some of us actually want to survive this!" Mathias' loud, demanding voice snapped us out of our argument.

We listened to the Dane and fired our guns back at the opposition.

This was going to be a long day.

**xxx**

**A/N: ***This sentence is a slur of military-talk. "Copy that" from what I understand is that they understand the order. "E.T.A" is Estimate Time until Arrival. "D.C.P.-1" in reality doesn't exist, but in this story it stands for Danish Command Post 1. Basically a little Command station where some high-ranking Danes and communications officers stay so they can monitor where their troops are.

**From what I know, is that most helicopters on a battlefield carry some sort of heavy weaponry aside from their main machine guns. In this case, I'm assuming short range, non-heat-seeking missiles fired from the underbelly of the helicopter. The term "danger close" I believe means that there are allied soldiers or civilians near the proposed location of the attack.

***Armored Personnel Carrier


	9. In the Ranks of the Fallen

After about twenty minutes of getting nowhere with the fighting, not many of us were left. There were maybe ten Danes remaining, call-sign "Circuit Breaker" had been disabled then destroyed, Mathias struggled to keep contact with Danish pilots due to the planes and helicopters being shot down, Berwald had long run out of ammunition for his pistol, and had retrieved the weapons of one of the dead soldiers nearby.

"_Oxenstierna, this is Major Leskinen of the Finnish Armed Forces, arriving at the northwest side of Camp Låssmed with one hundred Finnish ground soldiers. What is your location?"_

I recognized the name of the Major whom was contacting us. He was the man whom had been there to meet Berwald, Mathias and I when we were taken to Camp Rawhide by the Swedes.

Berwald grabbed his radio and ducked down behind cover so that he wouldn't be shot while he spoke to Major Leskinen.

"Leskinen, I am with a small group of soldiers on th' southeast end of th' camp gates, behind an APC."

"_What are your numbers?"_

"Two Finns, ten Danes, and myself."

"_Alright. Hold your position. We'll be there in a matter of seconds."_

"Copy that."

Just as Leskinen had said, the Finnish soldiers arrived within seconds. Maybe half a minute had gone by since Berwald had last received a transmission from the Finnish Major. We watched as the Swedes whom had our small group pinned down were overwhelmed by the amount of arriving soldiers and forced to go back into the camp. We met up with Leskinen behind the cover of a nearby building.

"We Danes are losing aircraft like there's no tomorrow. The Swedish allies in the air are taking out our planes and helicopters quickly; we may have to pull out of here soon to regroup." Mathias informed.

"We can't lose Danish support when we're in the heart of Pajala. You have to hold out just a bit longer." Leskinen replied.

"I've got men out at DCP-1 but it'll take too long to get them here to support a frontal attack going through the camp gates. They'll mow us all down with RPG's, Kulsprutas, and Remingtons before we can step two yards in those gates. Besides, that's not a good tactic anyways. You Finns should know that by now, since you guys failed to win your previous attacks."

"Send the men from DCP-1 regardless of how long it will take. We can hold the gates for around ten minutes with the amount of men we currently have before we have no option but to retreat back a little ways."

"It'll take them about twenty minutes to get here on foot, if they encounter no resistance. The Swedes have air support that could easily take my men out."

"Just send them, Generalløjtnant. We don't have much of a choice."

"I don't want you to risk the lives of so many Finns by trying to hold the camp gates. Split up your forces; send a third to the left side of camp from the Swedish helipads, a third to directly attack the front gates, and another third to attack the right side of camp. That way the Swedes have to split up their forces and can't focus all of their firepower on one area."

"How many men do we have total, including ourselves?"

"One-hundred-fourteen."

"That means 38 men for each side of the camp you stated."

"Yes. Now, I'm going to give the order to send the rest of my Danes down here, then we can split up into the groups." With that, Mathias started speaking Danish into his radio. After the order was given the 100 Finnish soldiers whom had just arrived were split up, and the 11 soldiers whom weren't Berwald, Mathias, Leskinen, or I, were put into the groups.

"Alright. Tino, go with Group A, which is assigned to the left side of the camp. Berwald, go with Group B, which is assigned to the gates. Mathias, you come with me and Group C to the right side of camp." Leskinen said.

I looked to Berwald; he and I were getting separated. I had made a promise a while back that I wouldn't break now.

Before we joined our groups, we shared a chaste kiss. It didn't last long, but it was as meaningful as ever. Either one of us could go down in this attack right here.

"I love you, Berwald." I said.

"I love y' too, Tino…" He responded.

"Come on lovebirds. Join your groups so we can get this attack rolling." Leskinen demanded. Berwald and I, without another word, separated and went to our groups, heading to our positions. Our group had to invade the camp through a chain-link door which was just big enough to fit two men side by side.

A Finnish man nearby had a radio, which was turned up on full volume so that we could hear Leskinen's order to commence the invasion of Camp Låssmed.

"_Alright everyone, move in. Take the Swedes out."_

There it was.

One of my fellow Finns shot the padlock off the gate with his shotgun, and we found ourselves surging in behind what I knew was the medical tent. How could I tell? There was stitching in the back to seal where Mathias and I had made our way through the canvas with our knives to get to Lukas.

We fired at the opposing Swedes, whom were heavily concentrated at the center and back of camp, with sandbags and ammunition crates stacked up for cover. There were a lot of standard Swedish soldiers, but there were also plenty of Långtradare with their heavy weapons, shooting back at us with their own deadly bullets.

I for one had little to hide behind to avoid this fire, so I laid down on the ground and fired my assault rifle so that I wasn't such an easily hit target. The current situation was one that no one wanted to be in. We had to hold all the exits of the camp until support arrived to complete the takeover, which would take twenty minutes. That was twenty minutes of staying in one spot and staying alive whilst completely outnumbered.

It took a half hour for Danish support to arrive, and by that time, nearly all the Finns and Danes that had originally been here had been killed. Leskinen had been killed as well by a shot to the head, so Mathias had taken complete command as a spur of the moment leadership change. The Swedes were thinning out as well, cowering in their cover with only four or five Långtradare to use the heavy weapons.

A Danish helicopter hovered overhead, firing down at the Swedes mercilessly with it's main machine gun. I went wide eyed as a single Långtradare managed to pull of a shot with his RPG, nailing the large helicopter and causing it's main rotors to fall to pieces.

"Get down!" I heard one man shout. Luckily, I was already on the ground.

The helicopter slammed into the ground in a cataclysmic explosion of fire and metal. I covered my head with my arms, not wanting my head to be chopped off by one of the pieces of scrap metal flying off the helicopter due to the explosion.

When all that was heard was the burning of fire and some groans, I figured it was okay to look at my surroundings. I lifted my head and glanced around.

Everyone whom had been standing up around me was now on the ground, dead or wounded. I cautiously got to my knees, lifting my assault rifle, checking for any Swedes.

Assuming it was clear, I stood and moved forward slightly, stepping over the body of a fellow Finn.

I stepped out into the clearing cautiously, noting the fact that the explosion from the helicopter had destroyed a whole hell of a lot of the camp, and killed a lot of the people around.

I approached the sandbags at the center of the camp to check for any Swedes, and before I could say or do anything, a Långtradare climbed up out of cover with a knife and tackled me. He was wounded, but could still fight me.

I tried my hardest to get the knife out of his hand, but I failed miserably. He jammed the blade right into my abdomen, just under my ribcage. I screamed out in pain as the larger man got off me and tried to scramble away, leaving the knife in me.

My vision blurred with tears as I felt myself become weaker. I was bleeding out; I would be dead in a matter of minutes. I was in so much pain, and yet I couldn't do a thing about it.

I watched through blurred vision as a wounded figure of a soldier pursued my attacker, getting in a hand-to-hand brawl. Within seconds though, the man was on his back, being pummeled by the Långtradare. I couldn't just let this be the last thing I did; watch this other soldier get beat the hell out of by an elite soldier whom was sitting on his chest.

Slowly, with a weak hand, I grasped the handle of the knife in my stomach. I attempted to pull it out of myself, groaning in pain.

_I would be remembered for this._

I pulled a bit harder.

_I wasn't going to die just watching another soldier get killed._

I screamed through grit teeth as I pulled even harder.

_I was not going to die without a fight._

I brought up my other hand and now held the handle of the knife with both hands, tugging it as hard as I could.

_I was Tino Väinämöinen._

I finally tore the knife from my abdomen and took it in my right hand. I couldn't stand; I had lost feeling in my legs. But luckily, thanks to Mathias, I knew exactly how to throw a knife.

I narrowed my vision and brought my arm back, aiming right for the Långtradare's neck. With all the energy I could possibly manage, I threw the knife through the air.

It struck it's mark and the elite Swedish soldier fell back, off the other soldier beneath him.

I lay there on the ground, now gone limp, just staring at the blurred soldier on the ground. He wasn't dead, was he? I sat there for what seemed like hours before some movement caught my eyes. The other man rolled over off his back and looked to me.

"Tino…" He said. I couldn't respond.

"Tino!" He shouted, scrambling over to me. I now recognized who this man was.

It was Berwald.

He cradled me in his arms, holding me close.

"Oh God, please, Tino… Don't y' dare die on m'…" He pleaded, starting to cry. My lips twitched into a smile and I reached up with one bloody hand and placed it on my lover's cheek.

"… A strong man like you… Should never cry…" I mumbled. Words were very hard to produce in my condition.

"Tino, please… Y' can't do this to m'… Please…"

"… You know… You know I love you… So much… But…"

"Tino, don't talk like that… Y-Y' have t' stay alive… Please…"

My vision fell into an even hazier blur, and my hand fell slowly from my lover's cheek.

"T-Tino…" He whispered, his voice shaky.

I soon slipped into unconsciousness, going limp in Berwald's arms. He must have felt so horrid at that very moment. He had been the one to train soldiers to kill, to never give up. He must have felt it was his fault that I was bleeding to death. He had become a traitor, but had ultimately been betrayed in the worst of ways by his former men.

The final chapter in my book of life, I assumed, had been written.

**xxx**

**A/N: **Oh, don't worry. Tino isn't dead. There are still at least two chapters left to go in this story. How would that be possible if Tino got killed?

Man, I love leaving people on cliffhangers… First I did that a lot with "Another Day, Another War" and now I'm doing it a lot with LiW… Hah.

But seriously, don't worry. He isn't dead. I'm not that mean.


	10. Breath

**A/N:** **ALL READERS; PLEASE TAKE AWARENESS OF THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE.**

Ahem, now that I have your attention, I have a few things to say. It has been brought to my attention that this story is very popular, seeing that it's amount of subscribes has surpassed that of my previous popular story "Another Day, Another War", and has tied it's amount of reviews before it's even finished.

As a response to one of the reviews I recently received by an anonymous reviewer, I will be writing another multi-chapter story soon. But I need my readers' help. On my profile, I have a poll with a quite a few pairings listed. Many of them are very different pairings, straying away from the mainstream things like UsUk, GerIta, Spamano, etc… Again; I need your guys' votes on this poll to decide what pairing I am to write with next. After the pairing is decided, then I will put up a poll questioning the genre of the new story. Please, head over to my profile and cast your votes in the poll. It would be very helpful.

Also, for this chapter, I have a little theme song for it. It's "Remember When" by Future World Music. Do try to listen to it. It is a very good instrumental song.

Note the fact that this is going to be a rather short chapter, but please, bear with me. The next chapter is going to be the last one, and I plan to make it at least 4,000 words.

Now, let's get to the story.

**xxx**

I remembered everything so vividly, even when I was bleeding to the point of what I assumed was death.

I had gotten up after a large helicopter had crashed and caused an explosion that killed many almost instantly. I looked around a bit, went towards the center of camp, unknowing of an injured Långtradare with a knife waiting to strike. He had jumped from his cover, stabbed me in the abdomen, then had tried to retreat. But then Berwald went after the man, and had gotten into a fistfight with him. Berwald ended up pinned down, being beaten the living hell out of. Under my own sheer will to not let the last thing I saw be Berwald, whom I thought was just a regular soldier at the time, get killed; I, with much effort and struggle, pulled the knife from my abdomen, threw it, and nailed the Långtradare on top of Berwald right in the neck. Berwald, after a few moments, got up and hurried over to me, crying out my name and pleading for me to live. After a minute or so, I fell unconscious in his arms. I, for one, thought I was dead.

But I was wrong.

I slowly opened my eyes, only to be blinded by the brightness of an incredibly white room. I immediately noticed that there was a tube down my throat, connected to a machine which was breathing for me. Machines around me beeped and whistled as I stirred to consciousness, almost causing me to panic. But then I heard a familiar monotone voice.

"Calm down, Tino, you're safe now." It was Lukas. With half-shut eyes, I looked to him. He pressed a few buttons on the machines then meandered over to me.

"Listen, you have a mechanical ventilator providing your breath. I'm going to take it out, and you'll need to start breathing on your own; which you haven't done in two days. Your throat will most likely be sore, but you should be able to do just fine." He explained. He placed one of his hands on the ventilation machines tube and placed his other one under my chin, tilting my head back. He pulled the tube out and I found myself coughing, which hurt like hell.

Once I stopped, I got a good look at the room around me. There were quite a few machines sitting around, many attached to different IV's in my arms. The white room that surrounded me was definitely a hospital room, most likely a room in the Intensive Care Unit. I glanced over Lukas as he disposed of the used breathing tube, realizing that he was in doctors' scrubs, but was also bandaged up from wounds he had sustained.

"… What happened to you…?" I asked, my voice hoarse and raspy. I hadn't spoken a word since I had fallen unconscious in Berwald's arms, I expected to sound pretty horrible.

Lukas chuckled a bit.

"Out of all the things you could ask right now, you ask about my injuries? You're a very considerate person Tino. But if you must know, when that helicopter crashed into the camp, the explosion was very close to my tent. I got burned, but not very badly. I also got cut up a bit from shrapnel, but it wasn't major whatsoever. Worst I received was a second degree burn on my right arm."

"… Lucky you… Where's…. Where's Mathias? Is he okay?" I questioned.

"Mathias is doing alright. A piece of metal that came off of the helicopter shattered his knee, and he got a few burns. He's currently on crutches, and his burns are healing very well so far." Lukas responded. "But enough about mine and Mathias' conditions. How are you feeling right now?"

"I'm in some pain… But it's nothing I can't handle…"

"You're very lucky, you know. The knife that man used caused quite a bit of damage to you internally. Your lung was hit and it collapsed; luckily we were able to repair it. You also were mere ounces of blood loss away from death. You were bleeding a lot internally, and externally. Most people don't survive a stab wound like that. I would have hated myself if I wasn't able to participate in aiding your recovery. Once I was treated for my wounds and your surgery was complete, the Finnish doctors were able to pull up my medical credentials on an online database and I was given full jurisdiction over your recovery."

"… I'm glad I survived… I'd hate to leave Ber… Wait, where's Berwald? Is he okay?"

"Don't fret, Tino. Berwald is fine. He's beat up, but he's alright. He lost one of his bottom teeth, got a split lip, had his eye swollen shut yet again, had his hand broken yet again, and had his ribs that were fractured were broken. But even with the physical pain he was in, he refused to accept treatment here in Oulu until he knew that you were going to be okay. He's a tough man, and his recovery is going smoothly."

"Where is he…?"

"In a different room. He's been instructed not to move around too much with his ribs the way they are, but if you'd like, I can assist him in visiting you."

"That'd be great if you could…"

"Alright. Is there anything else you would like to ask before I go and get him?"

"What was the outcome of the Finnish attack on Pajala?"

"A victory for the Finns. Remaining Finnish Forces raised a Finnish flag over Camp Låssmed, and burnt the Swedish one."

"… What happened to the Danish forces in Pajala?"

"What's left of the forces that were originally there have been reinforced by extras, and are now keeping the camp secure."

"Who's commanding them if Mathias is injured?"

"Another high-ranking Dane. Mathias is still the highest ranked Dane in this war, but there were a few that were close to his rank."

"Okay… Well, you can go get Berwald now… I don't have any other questions."

"Alright. I'll be back up with him in maybe five minutes." With that, Lukas left the room to go get Berwald.

When he came back, I smiled widely as I spotted Berwald walk in after him. Berwald, the ever so stoic man I fell in love with long ago, grinned. He was delighted to see me alive.

"Moi, Berwald." I greeted as he approached.

"Hej Tino… How're y' feeling?" He asked, grabbing my hand gently with his uninjured one.

"… Like hell… But I'll survive. What about you?"

"I'm alright… I've just been worried about y'… I thought y' had died…"

"… I thought I had died too, but we were both wrong, luckily."

"I'm so glad… I don't know how I would have continued without y', Tino… You're m' life… You're everything t' m'…"

"I know… I'm extremely grateful that I have a man like you… I love you so much…"

"I love y' too, Tino… I love y' too…" He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then placed one on my lips. I felt so grateful to receive both, knowing that they were more meaningful than they looked. Two days ago, I was on the borderline of being dead. Now I was alive and recovering, and these kisses symbolized something far more than just our love, but also our survival.

"Well, well. Looks like we've got the whole group together again." A familiar Danish accent made both Berwald and I look to the door. Mathias had entered, on crutches of course.

"Long time no see, Mathias." I said, smiling at the Dane.

"Yeah. Is Luke taking good care of you?" He asked.

"Yes, he is." I replied. I could have sworn I saw Lukas smile, but maybe it was just some blurriness in my vision caused by side-effects of anesthetics they had used on me that made me think that I saw him smiling.

I remembered all the times I had seen Lukas, and he simply seemed so composed, so unmoving, so distant. But he was human, just like the rest of us. If that was a smile on his face, it was because of that fact.

"And you Berwald? How are you doing?" Mathias looked to my Swedish lover.

"I'm great now that I'm with Tino…" Berwald replied with a smile.

"He's a lucky guy to have a man like you. I've never seen someone with so much dedication to their lover; that is, other than Luke and I." Mathias said, laughing a bit. Now I was sure I saw Lukas smile.

"I personally think that Lukas is extremely dedicated to you, Mathias, but is even more dedicated to his profession. The only times I've ever seen his is when he's in some form of medical area." I commented.

"Yeah, that's probably true. Good thing is, if I get injured when we're at home, I don't have to go very far to get the necessary medical treatment. Our house back in Norway is like a hospital itself."

"That's because you're clumsier than a drunk wearing his shoes backwards." Lukas spoke up. Mathias laughed.

"Haven't I done that before? You know, be drunk and wear my shoes backwards?"

"You're such an idiot… But you're my idiot."

Mathias grinned as the Norwegian, whom normally showed little to no affection in public from what I had observed, turned to him and placed a kiss on his lips.

"Jeg elsker deg, Mathias. Always."

"I know. I love you too."

**Xxx**

And the ending is full of DenNor. Woohoo.

**Attention: Again, please visit my profile and answer the poll. That will determine what pairing I am going to focus on for my next multi-chapter story.**

Thank you, and please review.

~Raivis-Latvijas


	11. The Legacy

**A/N: **Well, surprise, surprise! This actually isn't going to be the last chapter! I planned for it to be, but I just couldn't resist putting one more in before my 4,000+ word final chapter. Again, like I said in the last chapter, do head over to my profile and cast a vote in the poll I have there! It will determine what pairing I am to use in my next multi-chapter story.

Enjoy this one!

**Xxx**

After a few days of healing, I was released from the hospital. To my surprise, I actually had news crews asking me tons of questions. Some weren't even Finnish. I recognized one of the crews to be from the BBC.

"Mr. Väinämöinen, you're being hailed as the hero of Camp Låssmed after eliminating the final Swede in the camp even while bleeding nearly to death. What do you plan to do, now that you're out of the hospital?" A microphone was shoved in my direction. I promptly ignored the media's constant questioning, but took into mind that I was, in fact, being hailed as a hero.

But what was so heroic about almost dying? I know that I had killed the last Swede there in Camp Låssmed, but I had done it out of the will to not let the last thing I saw be the death of a fellow soldier. Not because I wanted to be a hero.

Berwald, Lukas, and Mathias made their way through the crowd to a taxi, which we got in and headed away from the hospital.

"Where to?" The driver asked.

"Camp Rawhide. Just south of Kolari." I responded. He nodded and began to drive.

"So… What's with all the media?" He questioned while we were on our way north.

"Well… To make a long story short, I apparently am being hailed as a hero for killing the last Swede in Camp Låssmed when I was nearly dead… There were a few witnesses that saw what happened; I'm thinking they were Danes or Finns that were injured by the explosion that managed to get the story leaked out of the battlefield…"

"You think you'll get some sort of award or medal?"

"Possibly… I mean… This is one of the more major wars Finland has ever been in… And I, well… I didn't really do much. Or at least I don't think so… I was just doing what I thought was the better thing to do."

"Since it'll take a little bit to get up to where you want to be, could you tell me the whole story? I just want to know; it sounds very brave just by the little description you gave me."

I sighed. "If you insist…" I really didn't feel like giving my story away, but he was just a taxi driver. It's not like he was going to tell it to the media that were probably going to hound upon my very existence for quite some time.

"We had just received backup from extra Finnish forces outside the gates of Camp Låssmed; just in time too, we were running low on soldiers and were pinned down… When the reinforcements arrived, we forced the Swedes to retreat into the camp… That gave the high-ranking men a few moments to collaborate and organize the troops so that we could take the camp once and for all… We split into three groups, thirty-eight men each. The first was led by Major Leskinen and Mathias here; they were going straight in the main gates." I motioned to the Danish man whom was holding his crutches.

"The second came in from one of the sides, which was a street. It was led by Berwald here." I now motioned to my Swedish lover whom was sitting next to me.

"The third was going in from a small helicopter landing area, opposite the ones going in from the street. It was led by some other high ranking Finn… But we waited for a signal from Major Leskinen, since he was the highest ranking Finn in the area… When we got the signal, we all rushed in. Like a tidal wave from three sides. We had heavy fire coming from the center of camp; the Swedes had fortified themselves behind ammunition crates and sandbags. After a little while of fighting between forces, we were all thinning out… People were getting killed, Swedish, Finnish, and Danish… Major Leskinen died had gotten killed in action… So the Command of the forces went to Mathias, whom is the Generalløjtnant of the Danish Defence… Finally, we all thought we were saved; the Danish reinforcements arrived from their command point just outside of Pajala… A helicopter came up and hovered above the camp… The most elite of the Swedish Armed Forces, the Långtradare, are trained to use RPGs, so… what happened was one of the Långtradare pulled off a shot at the helicopter, making it crash to the ground in a fireball… I was on the ground, covering my head with my arms… I didn't get hit by any debris, but almost everyone whom had been around me was either dead or dying… I stood once I thought we were all clear, and looked around… The dead were… They were numerous… I neared the center of the camp to inspect the Swedish resistance that we had encountered… But I wasn't cautious enough… An injured Långtradare jumped out from behind his cover with a knife and managed to overpower and stab me in the abdomen… It hurt so bad,; I've been injured before, shot twice actually, but I had never been stabbed… I felt myself get weaker and weaker with every passing second… But as the man whom stabbed me tried to run away, a man whom I couldn't recognize at the time rushed after him and started to brawl with him… The Långtradare managed to fend off the attack and retaliate, beating the hell out of the man whom was now beneath him… I didn't want that to be the last thing I ever saw… I didn't ever want anyone to die when I could do something about it… So I took a hold of the knife in my stomach with one hand, starting to pull it out… I couldn't get it out with just one, so I got my other hand up and finally, with both hands and a lot of pain, I ripped the knife from myself and… I took it in my hand… And threw it right at the opposing Långtradare… Thanks to some training I had received prior to the attack, I… I hit the man square in the neck with the blade of the knife… Killed him, and saved the man underneath him, whom after a few moments got up and rushed over to me… That's when I learned that I had just saved the life of my lover… He… He held me in his arms… Pleading to me not to die; to stay with him… I just… I went unconscious in his arms… I thought that I was dead… but two days later, I awoke in the hospital in Oulu… With Lukas here tending to me." I motioned to the Norwegian doctor.

"So… Yeah… That's the whole story."

"You're serious?" The driver asked, sounding astonished.

"Yeah."

"That is extremely worth being distinguished from other soldiers… You're seriously a hero. With what you just told me, you deserve so much."

"All I want is peace, at the moment… But the job isn't ever going to be done. Even if I'm let out of the Finnish military because of my injuries I've acquired over my short amount of time in the war, I'll still be hounded by the media, and will still have to pay a whole hell of a lot of attention to the military."

"Well, let's just hope this war doesn't last too much longer. It's taking a toll on the Finnish economy."

"It's taking it's toll on a lot of different economies, even outside of Scandinavia."

"Whatever happened to start this war? I mean, seriously. Does anyone even know?"

"I do." Berwald spoke up.

"You Swedish?"

"Former Överstelöjtnant, actually. I'm a traitor though; I defended a Finn from being hurt by one of m' men."

"So you know how and why this war started?"

"For th' most part, yes."

"Care to explain?"

"Well… Th' new Prime Minister… He felt that th' Finnish Armed Forces were getting too strong, and that they were posing a threat t' Swedish security… So… We wasted no time in invading Northern Finland. It's just one of those pointless wars, y' know? The Prime Minister is using his power and influential abilities t' try t' win an unjust war… I don't know why th' hell I left m' home t' serve… We didn't even get two miles into Finland before we were beat back into our own homeland."

"Wow… I didn't know that the new Swedish Prime Minister was so influential…"

"It happens… People get greedy, and people like us have to deal with it." Lukas said.

"So what did you do to contribute? I mean, not that you haven't done anything, but what did you do? You haven't been mentioned as a soldier." The driver asked him.

"I was a volunteer Norwegian medic; I'd been there since before the Norwegian alliance… I offered my assistance to the Swedes, but ended up saving Tino here from his nearly mortal wound. I wasn't just going to let someone die, no matter their alliance… I'm not going to support the Swedes any longer now that they officially have my nation's military helping them…"

"There's no harm done in that. You going to go back to Norway?"

"Possibly. I'm actually thinking of working as a medic for the Finnish forces, but I'm not completely sure I want to continue to participate in the war. I've failed to save so many that were wounded… It was all simple injuries too; things that I could normally deal with if I had medical equipment… But in Camp Låssmed there was practically no medical equipment for the trauma I encountered… All I had was a shelf full of different pills and injections… Some minor equipment like scalpels and sutures… Half of it wasn't sanitary at all… If I did manage to save people, they then had to worry about infections and such… God, I don't ever want to go back to doing that. The battlefield isn't the place for me… I did my service for eight months in the RNoN*, and was done with my mandatory service. The Swedes allowed me to volunteer due to the lack of medics in Northern Sweden… I didn't think much of it until I started losing people to simple wounds…" Lukas' voice was full of emotion when he spoke of his time as a medic in Sweden.

The seemingly cold Norwegian must have held back so many emotions from showing; he had lost so many men to injuries that would usually be able to be treated in a hospital. I was lucky that I wasn't one of the dead. I seriously had to give Lukas credit for what he did now. He never let anything become too overbearing, or at least he didn't show it.

"Well… We're here. You don't have to pay me for this ride; you're veterans. Thanks for the conversation by the way; you all deserve far more than what you're going to be getting." The driver said as we pulled up outside of Camp Rawhide

"Thanks man. We're just glad we're all still alive." Mathias said. We all exited the vehicle, the Dane getting some help from Lukas so that he could stand and get his crutches under his arms.

"Have a nice day." The driver told us before heading off.

The four of us turned to the mains gates to the small camp I had been assigned to previously, and I sighed heavily.

"Something wrong?" Berwald asked.

"Come on… I bet the Commanding officers here are going to be pissed that we practically went A.W.O.L.**…" I replied, walking up to the gates.

We were approached by a few guards, whom questioned us a bit, and eventually let us in. Once we were in, a few high-ranking Finns meandered over to us.

"We've heard quite a bit about all of your guys' heroism at the attack on Pajala. The General wishes to speak with each of you, one on one." One spoke. To say the least, we were astounded.

"Whom does he want to see first?" I questioned.

"Which one of you is the Former Överstelöjtnant?" Berwald raised his hand slightly.

"That'd be m'." He said.

"Come with me. We'll take you to the General."

Berwald glanced to us, obviously unsure.

"Go on." Mathias urged. Berwald sighed a bit and followed the high-ranked Finn over to a small concrete building. They entered, and so initiated a period of waiting for him to come back out.

After about twenty minutes, Berwald exited the building, carrying in his hands a white uniform and a pair of boots, along with a cap suited to that of an officer. I didn't recognize it to look like anything the Finnish officers of the military wore, so it must have been either something new, or something that wasn't from here in Finland.

"What's that stuff for?" Mathias questioned.

"… Award-receiving ceremony. General had custom uniforms made for us… Even y', Lukas." He replied.

"You'll learn more once you've talked to him. Which one of you is Mathias?" The high-ranking Finn from before asked.

Before long, it was my turn to go and speak with the General. Mathias had received a white uniform similar to Berwald's, but it had a red collar and Mathias' current rank's insignia on the shoulder. Lukas had received a maroon uniform with a red plus on the shoulder, and white trim along the edges of the fabric. I knew that Lukas was going to feel so odd wearing such a uniform, and to be honest, I was too; but we had to wear them. They were for ceremonial purposes.

As I was ushered inside the concrete building, I was taken to a small room where a square table was. The General of the Finnish Armed Forces was sitting at one end in a chair. I, for one, was astonished to be in the presence of this man.

He stood with a smile and approached me.

"I have heard quite a bit about your from your friends out there, Väinämöinen." He said as he offered his hand to shake. I took it, smiling at the taller man.

"I don't doubt that, General." I replied.

"Take a seat, please." He said, motioning to the chair at the end of the table opposite where he sat. I nodded and sat down, heart beating with anticipation. I was in the presence of a great man; the General of the Finnish army. He had asked personally to see me, and I was only a Private 1st Class. My story must have gotten around quite a bit.

"So, Tino; you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

"Not at all, sir."

"Alright. So, Tino, I've been told of your heroism by Danes and Finns alike. For a young Private like you at the age of twenty-three to be hailed like this from men of a different army of much higher rank; it caught my attention quite a bit. Your comrades outside did quite a bit of contribution as well, but nothing quite like what you did. Tell me; what were the injuries you received throughout your experience in the war? Tell the story behind each one, if you wouldn't mind."

"Well… The first injury I received was in the first attack on Pajala we Finns tried… Our helicopter was shot out of the sky, and it crash-landed in a parking lot. I managed to survive with no injuries and crawl out of the wreckage… A nearby Finn tossed me a shotgun after I had gotten up and told me to clear out the Swedes in a nearby building across the street… I managed to get across without getting shot, and went inside, only to come face to face with a Swedish soldier. He had a gun to my head, but I shot him before he had a chance to pull the trigger… He was the only Swede in the room, so I continued up a flight of stairs to get to the next floor. I peeked through the door and noted that there were three Swedes firing their guns out of a large hole in the wall at Finnish soldiers… So… I took a grenade, pulled the pin, and tossed it by their feet. Once it exploded, I opened the door and went in. There was a man trying to surrender… But I had my orders to kill any Swedes, so I shot him… I then went over to the gap in the wall and saluted to my fellow soldiers as a sign that I was on their side, but… Berwald, whom was with the Swedish Armed Forces at the time, tackled me out of the wall. It was a two story fall, and when I landed I fractured a vertebra in my spine."

"And who gave the verdict that you had fractured that vertebra?"

"Lukas did, actually. You see, I was captured and taken to Camp Låssmed so that I could be used for decoding Finnish communications for the Swedes, but since I was in so much pain and could hardly move, I was taken to the medical barracks. Lukas was there working as a medic for them."

"Alright… So what was the second injury you received?"

"Well, when I managed to escape the camp during another attack on Pajala thanks to Berwald attacking his own soldier, I ended up back here in Camp Rawhide. Mathias arrived not too soon after I did in a helicopter. I… Well, I supposed you could say I was having a hard time coping with being away from and fighting against Berwald. He's been my lover since far before this war started… But anyways, Mathias noticed me just sitting alone and, well, noticed that I was crying… He asked why, and we got to talking… I found out that Lukas, the medic from before, was Mathias' boyfriend… Mathias and I came up with a plan to sneak out of Camp Rawhide to head over to Camp Låssmed undetected so that we could warn Lukas of the attack that happened a few days ago… We… We didn't want to have to fight against the ones we love. So we snuck out and went to the Swedish camp during the night, planning to come back in the morning before the attack. We managed to infiltrate it with almost no trouble… We got to Lukas and warned him of the attack… and then went out of the medical tent… We tried to go around the side, but just as I turned the corner, I ran right into a Swedish soldier… Mathias jumped into action with his knife and slit the man's throat… But we were caught. We found ourselves surrounded by Swedish soldiers. We were handcuffed with zip-ties and tossed into a little tent with cages; like a prison for those captured… Berwald was in there, so we got to communicate a bit, and he got my cuffs off… He was beat to hell because he had been a traitor, and his men apparently decided that was his punishment… But anyways, not too long after I was tossed in there, a few Swedes came in… The one that seemed to be in charge spoke a bit in English, and then spoke some Swedish… Which horrified Berwald and made him try to plead with the man… Before I knew it, the man had opened the cage door and had pointed a pistol at my head… Mathias tried to stop him, but was unsuccessful… The Swedish man with the gun's aim was off, so when he fired the first shot, he hit me in the neck." I moved the collar of my shirt to show the scars that the bullet had left, then continued.

"A few seconds later, he shot me again, this time in the shoulder." I now pulled the collar down over my shoulder and exposed the other scar to the General. I fixed my shirt, and continued once again.

"The man with the gun then lifted me up and put the barrel of the gun under my chin, ready to kill me once and for all… But Lukas, the medic whom Mathias and I had told about the attack, rushed in. He grabbed the gun and tossed it away, forcing the man not to shoot me because ultimately, Mathias and I had just committed a form of treason against our own nations by telling someone allied with the Swedes very important information… Mathias tried to stop him from telling the Swede whom had shot me all the information… But failed in doing so… Lukas told the man the Finnish and Danish plans and the Swedes allowed us to be released… I was laying on the ground, bleeding a lot, and in a lot of pain from the bullet wounds I had received… So Lukas, being the medic of the camp, told Berwald to take me over to the medical tent… Once we were there, I underwent two painful surgeries to seal the bullet wounds… Lukas only had numbing agent, so I still felt a lot of what he did… I survived the rough surgery and was carried over to a different bed to recover… And then Berwald was treated for his injuries; though they weren't as major as mine, they still caused him quite a bit of pain."

"And the third… Er… fourth wound you received was the one that's been so publicized; the stab wound you received by a Långtradare after surviving the helicopter explosion?"

"Yes."

"Well, from what I've been told, basically, you had gotten to Camp Låssmed with help from the Danes and had participated in the infiltration. When the Danish helicopter crashed, you were uninjured. When you got up and went towards the center of camp, that's when the Långtradare jumped out of his cover and stabbed you. When you were on the ground, Berwald went after the retreating man, and was soon being pummeled mercilessly. You, despite your weakened condition, pulled the knife from your abdomen and threw it at the Långtradare, killing him with a direct hit to the neck… You saved Berwald, whom rushed over to you. You then fell unconscious, and were kept alive by Lukas, whom along with Mathias and Berwald, took you to Oulu. You were then treated for the stab wound, and recovered; thus leading you here."

"Precisely."

"Well, Tino, you're an excellent soldier… We've been lucky to have you with the Finnish Armed Forces. Sadly though, we have to let you go due to your injuries. But not without parting gifts, I suppose you could call them. You, Tino Väinämöinen, are set to receive six different awards. Four are being bestowed upon you by the president of Finland, Esa Aalto. We spoke with him, and informed him of your deeds. He has decided to award you with the 1st and 2nd Class Medal of Liberty, the 1st Class Medal of the White Rose of Finland with the Golden Cross, and the Knight, First Class, of the Order of the Lion of Finland. You are being honored extremely by our nation, Tino. I hope you understand why you are receiving all four of these awards from our nation."***

"Of course I do, General. I am extremely grateful to be receiving these awards… But what were the other two? You mentioned six."

"Yes, I did. The other two are being bestowed upon you by the monarch and government of Denmark. They have been informed by Mathias of your achievements as a soldier. You are being honored in an extremely rare way by the Danes; they commissioned a new rank of medal just for this occasion. The first medal you are receiving from them is the Defense Medal for Bravery. The second, the newest rank of medal awarded from the Danes, is the Defense Medal for International Service in Sweden, V Class. It differs from the standard Defense Medal for International Service in Sweden, given to regular soldiers whom have been injured or have retired from the fighting in Sweden already, by stating exactly what the person must have done in order to receive the V Class medal. The V standing for Väinämöinen, your last name."****

"What do they have to do to get this V Class medal?"

"They must be near-mortally wounded in battle by the enemy, and keep fighting even mere moments away from presumable death; showing no fear, bravery, and combat excellence. Oh, and it has to be in this war, of course."

"Wow… I didn't think that what I did would have me receiving all these medals…"

"You probably were thinking you wouldn't see another day."

"That's for sure…"

The General cleared his throat and sighed in satisfaction.

"Well, Tino, I have one thing to give you. It is a ceremonial uniform you are to wear tomorrow morning when you receive the medals. This should fit you correctly, since we have your height, weight, body size, etcetera, in our military database." He said, leaning over and picking up a small pile of neatly folded clothing.

It was a black uniform, with golden epaulets and golden trim around the edges of the fabric. The collar of the uniform shirt was adorned with silver stars, and when I looked closely at the buttons going down the shirt, I noticed something that nearly brought me to tears. On the gold buttons, there was a detailed design of a man cradling another soldier in his arms on the ground. It was a design of the moment I had gone unconscious in Berwald's arms.

"You like the buttons, don't you?"

I could only nod as a response.

"Once of our soldiers actually got a photo of that moment. He gave it to me, and I sent it off to a manufacturer so that we could make this uniform special. It may have been expensive to do, but it's very worth it. I personally think what you've done in this war stands out so much; you're already a legend to me, like the Simo Häyhä of this war."

"Th-Thank you, sir… This means so much to me…" I tried hard to keep my composure in front of the General, but it was hard when so much had been done for me. Not only was I receiving medals from my home country and Denmark, but the ceremonial uniform had such personal detail, and I had just been called a _legend _by the General of the Finnish Armed Forces.

"Ah, and here's a pair of boots for you to wear, by the way." He placed a pair of shining black boots in my arms and smiled.

"You look tired, Tino. You can sleep the day away if you'd like. I can inform the men that our resident legend is not to be bothered. There is another concrete building beside this one, you may go in there to rest. It's normally the officer's barracks, but the officers here prefer to use the standard soldiers' barracks." He told me. I nodded. It was true, I was exhausted. I hadn't done all that much, but I had done a lot of stressful thinking and explaining.

"Thank you again, General… Thank you so much." I said, looking up at him.

"You're welcome. Now go on. I know you want to go sleep." He motioned to the door, and I nodded, walking out.

A little bit later, I was laying on one of the rather comfortable beds in the officer's barracks, Berwald laying with me, already snoozing away. I rolled over, resting my head on the chest of my Swedish lover and smiled.

So this was how my legacy started.

**Xxx**

* Royal Norwegian Navy

** Absent Without Leave

*** I did as much research as possible on the awards system of the Finnish government, and let's just say it was extremely complicated. I'm unsure about most of the meanings behind these awards. I should have just made up some new ones or something…

**** Again, same as with the Finnish government's award system, the Danish one was complicated as well… I just made up the one Defense Medal for International Service in Sweden, V Class, since I saw ones that actually exist for similar things (Defense Medal for International Service, Afghanistan, Kosovo, etc…). There actually aren't classes for these Defense Medal for International Service medals, so I guess I just kinda blatantly ignored that fact here. Tino deserves to be special anyways. Bow down to the near-immortal Finn! Haha.

I hope you enjoyed this surprisingly long chapter as much as I did. This actually isn't the last chapter, and it's over 4,000 words… I think I'm going to 5,000 for the final chapter… Damn that's going to be killer.

**Attention: Head to my profile to vote on a pairing for my next multi-chapter story, please. Oh, and please review.**


	12. All That Is Needed To Be Known

**A/N: **Well, here it is. The final chapter of LiW. I believe I found an overall theme song for this story. It's "Hello Alone" by Anberlin. Do listen to it, please.

Enjoy this final chapter. I know I enjoyed writing it.

**Xxx**

We were awoken in the officer's barracks early in the morning before the sun was even up by the Finnish General coming into the room and flipping on the light.

"It'd be best if you all decided to wake up soon. There are two bathrooms down the hall, so you can freshen up a bit before we head down to Helsinki. Be outside in a half hour. I'll be waiting." He instructed. "Oh, and Mathias, here are your previous medals and awards." He said, placing a small box on a shelf by the door. He then left.

"Did anybody catch all of what he just told us?" Mathias asked as he sat up from his place, yawning.

"Told us t' be ready in a half hour… two bathrooms down th' hall… Your previous stuff is over there…" Berwald mumbled, pointing lazily towards the shelf. He was still laying down, but his eyes were open.

"You two," Mathias motioned to Lukas and I. "Can head to the bathrooms first. I need to talk to Mr. Mumbles for a minute." He said. I chuckled a bit as I stood and retrieved my ceremonial uniform from the shelf next to the bed I had slept on.

"What did y' just call m', Mathias?" Berwald asked groggily, sitting up and looking to the Dane.

"Mr. Mumbles." Mathias replied.

"What kind of a nickname is that?" Berwald questioned. Mathias laughed slightly.

"A true one."

"Screw y', Mathias…"

Lukas and I exited the room, leaving the Dane and the Swede to talk.

"Those two sure get along well." Lukas said half-sarcastically as we headed down the hall to the bathrooms.

"I wonder what Mathias wanted to talk to Berwald about…" I said. Lukas shrugged.

"Who knows. It _is _Mathias after all. I don't even know what goes through his head when he says anything, and I've been his boyfriend for just under 8 years."

"Just under 8 years? How old were you two when you got together?"

"I was 16, and he was 17. To be honest, he hasn't changed mentally one bit since the day I first met him. Physically he's changed, but not mentally. He's still an idiot."

"But he's your idiot."

"Precisely." He replied, smirking a bit.

We went to the separate bathrooms, and I got myself cleaned up for the ceremony. Thankfully there was a razor placed by the sink along with a can of shaving gel. I hadn't shaved in quite some time, so the hairs on my face were starting to form an unruly beard; which personally, I didn't like the feel of. I had always been clean shaven.

Once I shaved, I began to get dressed in the uniform I had been provided. Everything fit perfectly, and was surprisingly comfortable. I looked over myself in the mirror; I appeared so official. This black uniform had been made custom for me, all because of the deeds I had done in the war. The left side of the breast of the uniform coat would soon adorn six medals, four Finnish, two Danish.

I sighed a bit and exited the bathroom, peeking into the open door of the bathroom Lukas was in. He was in the process of buttoning his maroon uniform coat, hands moving precisely to finish dressing himself.

"You look nice." I commented. He glanced to me and smiled a bit, finishing buttoning the final silver button on his uniform.

"I suppose." He replied. He sounded like he was in quite a bit of thought. I walked into the bathroom and stood next to him.

"What's on your mind?" I questioned.

"I think I know what Mathias is talking to Berwald about." He replied.

"And that would be?"

"I don't want to say… I wouldn't want to be wrong."

"Alright. I won't push the envelope to make you say."

"Thanks…"

"Well, shall we go back to the beds so Berwald and Mathias can get ready?"

"That'd probably be best."

Lukas and I then made our way to the beds where we had slept, walking into the room with no hesitation. Berwald and Mathias were obviously done talking, based on how Berwald was sprawled out on the bed, staring at the ceiling, silent, and how Mathias was sitting on his bed messing with the screws on one of his crutches, also silent.

"You two can go ahead and get dressed." Lukas said.

"Alright." Mathias said, standing.

"Will you need any help getting dressed, or will you be able to on your own?" The Norwegian of the two questioned after giving the Dane a small kiss on the cheek.

"I'll be fine. But could you take my uniform and medals to the bathroom for me? I can't carry anything while on these crutches."

"Of course." Lukas said, retrieving his boyfriend's uniform and previous awards and following him out of the room to one of the bathrooms.

I went over to Berwald and sat next to him on the bed.

"You should go get dressed too, Berwald." I said. He sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah…" He muttered.

"Something on your mind?" I asked, noting the fact that Berwald was being awfully quiet. Even though he wasn't a morning person, and didn't talk all too much when it wasn't required of him to speak, he was still being unusually quiet.

"It's nothing… Don't worry about it." He said, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close. I smiled a bit and placed a light kiss on his lips.

"I love you, Berwald. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do, Tino. I love y' too." He replied, releasing me. He stood and retrieved his uniform, then headed out the door.

A few moments later Lukas returned to the room and sat next to me.

"I think all four of us have far too much on our minds…" He muttered, leaning his elbow on his knee and resting his chin on his palm.

"Yeah… I can tell Berwald's got something on his mind. He just seems kind of distant, you know?"

"That's how Mathias is right now. Do you think what they talked about, whatever it was, got them both thinking a lot?"

"Possibly. But I don't think we should worry too much about it right now. We've got a big day ahead of us."

"I guess you're right. I'm kind of nervous for the ceremony… I don't know a single thing about any of this, I mean, I'm a doctor. Not a soldier. I did my service in the RNoN, but I was just a medic whom stayed on various ships out on patrol to make sure anyone whom was injured got the proper medical treatment. I've never worn a uniform during a time of war, let alone receive two medals I know I don't deserve. I didn't do anything."

"Sure you deserve the medals you're getting. You saved so many lives, and didn't care what Army they belonged to."

"But Tino, that's my job. I'm a doctor, a medic, whatever the hell you want to call me. I don't deserve awards for doing what I studied for in college and-"

"Lukas, you've saved my life twice. You've saved the lives of probably hundreds of people in your career as a medical professional. You, of all people, deserve recognition for what you've done. When I was shot in the neck and shoulder, you tended to me without hesitation and kept me from bleeding to death. When I was laying unconscious in the arms of the man I love, you managed to keep me alive so that you could get me to Oulu safely so that doctors could operate. I was mere moments away from death; you told me yourself when I woke up in the hospital. If it hadn't been for your quick thinking and lack of hesitation, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be with Berwald. I would be on the list of K.I.A.'s in this war. Lukas, you do far more than you think you do. So don't you ever say that you don't deserve recognition."

"Tino…"

"I am extremely grateful for you to have taken care of me, every time I've been hurt in this war. You're a remarkable person, Lukas. Don't you ever think anything lower of yourself."

Lukas chewed on his lip a little and nodded his head slightly before covering his eyes with his hand, sighing shakily. I then knew that my words had touched the doctor, for a few tears fell from his eyes, landing on his uniform pants.

"Th-Thank you, Tino…" He uttered quietly. I smiled a tad and placed my hand on his back.

"You're very welcome, Lukas."

Things went quiet between the Norwegian man and I after that, and Lukas managed to regain his composure fairly quickly. He was very good at that; more credit to him and his mentality.

When Berwald and Mathias came back in their uniforms, we headed out of the concrete building and approached the awaiting General of the Finnish Armed Forces.

"You all look very nice. I presume you're ready to head down to Helsinki?" He asked.

"Yes we are, sir." I responded.

"Alright." The General turned to a high-ranking Finn nearby, whom had a handheld radio clipped to his shirt. "What is the ETA on our transport helicopter, Lieutenant?" He questioned. The lieutenant reached up to his radio and spoke.

"ETA on arrival, call-sign Chariot?" He asked.

"_ETA 2 minutes, Lieutenant."_ Came the reply from the pilot of the helicopter. The lieutenant turned to the General.

"2 minutes, sir." He said.

"Alright. Thank you." The General replied. The lieutenant simply saluted a bit.

We waited around for a bit, and as predicted, two minutes later, a large transport helicopter arrived. It landed in the centre of the camp in the clearing, and the General, Lukas, Berwald, Mathias, and I boarded it. We buckled ourselves in for the ride down to Helsinki, and soon we were on our way.

"We'll be filmed on international television upon arrival, just so you guys know. It's not every day a group of soldiers and a civilian get awarded with this amount of medals. Also, we will be greeted by quite a few very important people. Queen Margrethe II of Denmark, for one. She is going to be the one to award you each with your medals from Denmark. Esa Aalto, president of Finland, will also be there to greet us, and will be awarding the Finnish medals to each of you. I will be there to accompany you four, of course, but I will only be guiding you along to make sure everything is in line. I expect all four of you to be on your best behaviors; but I shouldn't have to tell you that. You've all done military service." The General explained.

"Coming from a Dane here, speaking to all of us; don't forget to call Queen Margrethe II "Her Majesty", or if speaking to her, "Your Majesty". She's the Queen of Denmark; if you call her anything less, it's disrespectful. We would have to be royalty to not be required to call her a formal name." Mathias spoke up.

"We'll be sure to remember that." Lukas replied.

"Thanks for the tip, Mathias. I nearly forgot about that." The General said.

"Anything else you want to tell us that is on our agenda for the day other than the ceremony?" I questioned.

"After we land and converse with the Queen and President Aalto, we will be driven in a convoy of vehicles to the Presidential Palace, where the ceremony will take place. After the ceremony, you," The General motioned to me. "Are going to be receiving a formal promotion, and then are going to be released from the Finnish military permanently as an honorable discharge. You will carry your rank with you forever, even after your retirement from the military later today."

"What rank will I be receiving?"

"You will be promoted to the rank of Lieutenant. It's a very high jump from Private 1st Class, but you deserve it. President Aalto himself agreed with my decision for your rank."

"Oh wow… Thank you so much, General."

"You're welcome, Tino."

"Anything else planned, General?" Mathias asked.

"After Tino's honorable discharge, you four will be free to return to your homes and go about your business. Berwald, I'm not sure if you should go back into Sweden any time soon after you assisted the Finns in taking Pajala… It'd be best if you stayed in Finland or Denmark. As for you Mathias, you may want to head back to Denmark to discuss with your Generals about your injury. I presume that you'll be crippled for quite some time, so they may give you an honorable discharge."

"Yeah, possibly. Lukas will be coming with me basically wherever I go, or vise versa. I don't ever want to have to leave him alone again." Mathias responded, reaching over and grasping Lukas' hand.

"What about you two?" The General asked Berwald and I.

"Once I'm out of the military for good later today, I'm going to head to my apartment in downtown Helsinki… Just try to pick up the pieces and live my life where I left off. Berwald will be by my side, of course. He can't go back to Sweden, so he has practically no choice but to stay with me." I said.

"I was going t' stay with y' permanently, regardless if I could go back t' Sweden or not." Berwald commented, smiling slightly. I beamed back at him, glad to hear those words from him.

"You guys are all lucky to have such lovers. I've never seen anyone so dedicated. Mathias and Tino, you basically went A.W.O.L. and became traitors just so that you could warn Lukas and Berwald of the attack so that they didn't get killed… That's the most daring act of love I've ever heard of." The General noted, lips curving into a smile.

"We would die for each other. Thankfully it hasn't come to that, but it's the truth." Lukas replied.

ooo

When we arrived at the Helsinki Airport in our helicopter, we were greeted by media and important figures alike. When we stepped out of the helicopter's doors, I noted the fact that there was light snow falling from the sky. Winter had come along finally.

We entered the terminal and were welcomed by more media and by Esa Aalto and Queen Margrethe II. I shook hands with the Queen of Denmark, bowing my head a bit to her.

"It is an honor to be in your presence, Your Majesty." I said. She smiled at me with a nod.

"And it is an honor to be in yours, Mr. Väinämöinen." She replied. I then turned to President Aalto.

"Hello, Mr. Aalto." I greeted, shaking hands with the head of my country's government.

"Hello, Väinämöinen. It is very nice to finally meet you. I have heard quite a bit about you for the past few days." He said, patting my shoulder with his other hand.

"I don't doubt that at all. It seems that everyone has heard my name at one point or another now." I responded, letting go of his hand. I watched as the other three greeted the Queen and President Aalto. Specifically, I watched Mathias' interactions with Queen Margrethe II.

He shook hands with the elderly woman, and spoke some Danish, smiling and bowing his head. She placed her hand on his cheek and lifted his face, smiling and replying to what he said, patting his cheek. The two laughed a bit, obviously finding humor in something they had spoken.

He then moved over to President Aalto, greeting him in a polite manner. Their interaction was far more brief than what the interactions had been between the Queen and Mathias.

Once everyone had gotten acquainted, we headed off to awaiting vehicles outside. They were black limousine-like cars, outfitted with bulletproof, tinted glass and such to ward off any chance of an assassination.

I entered one of the vehicles with Berwald, smiling at him. The door was closed behind us by some security guards, and there wasn't a soul around to bother us. The driver was there, sure, but he was focused on the task of following the convoy. Berwald reached over and grabbed my hand, then leaned over and closed the gap between our lips.

I reached around his neck with my arms, pulling him close. He wrapped his long arms around my waist, and pulled away a bit, separating our lips with a grin. He was actually _grinning._ It was rare enough for him to smile or show any emotion unashamedly, but to grin at me like this was unheard of.

"I miss being able t' hold y'… It almost feels foreign t' be able t'." He said.

"Just think; after today's events are over, we'll be able to do so freely, like we've been doing for years." I replied, resting my head on his shoulder.

"Yeah… We will…" His smile never left his features even as he spoke. He sounded relieved to finally be getting out of this war for good, and to be able to be with me unrestrained by a military lifestyle. I was relieved too, to finally be free of this hell.

I hadn't even been in this war very long, but I had done far more than I was ever meant to do. Berwald, the former Överstelöjtnant of the Swedish Armed Forces, had done more than his part was as well. He had been a soldier, a leader, a traitor, a lover; a man of many names. I was the only one who could break through his mask of intimidation and calm, whether it be with a simple touch of our hands, or with a near-death experience.

"Berwald…?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, Tino?"

"… Could we possibly head up to Camp Låssmed after I'm given my discharge…? I just… I want to see the spot…"

"Where y' nearly died…"

"Yeah… It's kind of like a spiritual thing, you know? What happened to me there changed my life forever…"

"I can understand that. Once all th' ceremonies are over, we'll head t' Sweden… Hopefully m' nation's military isn't going t' try t' retaliate from th' attack…"

"After what losses were taken there, I don't think they'd be foolish enough to try to take it back so soon."

"That's true… Y' Finns are a tough people. I'm surprised y' managed t' defend your homeland when th' Swedish Armed Forces invaded… We had better weaponry and more men… Yet we failed miserably and y' guys decided to push us back and try t' eliminate our stronghold by th' border… After three tries, y' got it by a narrow margin…"

"We had help from the Danes during the third attempt to take Pajala. The first time was kind of a test to see how fortified you guys were, and we learned it the hard way… The second attempt was a failed full-scale attempt… And the third was the one to end it all. It was do or die. If we didn't take that camp then and there, the Finnish Armed Forces would have had no choice but to stay in Finland and try to build up the meager forces we had to ward off another Swedish attack… This war will last a long time, I fear… If battles keep going on like that, and no one wants to surrender… Our nations will be fighting to the last man standing…"

"Exactly how long do y' think it'll last?"

"… Two years at the minimum."

"That's a pretty long time…"

"But look at whom the Swedes are allied with. Germany, France, and Norway. This is turning into… A third World War…"

"That's impossible…"

"Just look at the circumstance though, Berwald. There are four nations fighting against Finland and Denmark. People will want to help defend Finland, and it'll lead to more alliances. I'm surprised Germany and Denmark haven't had any skirmished along their border… This is turning out to be a bigger war than anyone thought it would be…"

I think with my truthful words about this war, I had forced all forms of response out of Berwald's mind. He was speechless. Utterly silent.

"Berwald?"

"Hm…?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah… Just a bit… Well, surprised… If this does turn into World War Three, I don't know if I'll be able t' live with having been one of th' men t' initiate th' very first attack that started this hell… I can hardly deal with it now, let alone have t' deal with it after years…"

"Berwald…" I lifted my head off his shoulder and placed a hand on his cheek. "… Please don't say things like that… It worries me…"

He reached up with his cast covered hand and placed it over mine on his cheek, gently pulling my hand away from his face and holding it. He brought my knuckles to his lips and kissed them lightly.

"For y', I won't… You're everything t' m'; you're all I live for… Do y' understand why it hurt m' so bad to watch y' nearly die in m' arms? Do y' understand why I can't take being away from y'…?"

"Of course I do, Berwald… We've loved each other for five years now… Known each other for just over seven…"

"… I never want t' watch y' nearly die ever again… It hurt… So bad…" His voice became shaky now, and I realized that he was crying. I softly plucked his glasses from his face, then pulled him into a tight hug. The larger man, usually unfazed by anything, shed tears into my shoulder.

"Nothing like that will ever happen again, Berwald… I promise… We're out of combat and war… We won't be hurt by this ever again."

His rough, callused hands gripped at the cloth of my uniform, holding tightly as he sobbed. I couldn't do much more to comfort him than hold him close and allow him to release his pent-up emotions. He had been through a hell that only he knew of. He had left me in Finland due to his obligations as the Överstelöjtnant of his nation's Army, and had hated the moment he had left. I, for one, just wanted something to keep my mind off of him. That's why I joined the Finnish Armed Forces. I never thought that I'd end up face to face with the man I loved, on the same battlefield, on opposite sides. I never thought that we'd end up fighting each other.

It was a deep, personal hell that tore at my very being. Now that Berwald and I were together again, that hell still hurt, but not as much as when we were apart. Though I began to fear; perhaps Berwald would feel the long lasting effects of his experiences? He had hurt me once, and almost watched me perish twice.

After a few minutes, Berwald managed to regain his composure, and took his glasses from my hand, placing them on his face. We still had a few minutes until we reached the Presidential Palace, so he had time to restore his calm fully.

By the time the vehicle came to a stop outside the Presidential Palace, Berwald looked like he had before his emotions had gotten to him.

We stepped out of the vehicle and were met by a large crowd of media, guards, and the people whom we had associated with at the airport. We met up with Mathias and Lukas as the General approached us, saluting a bit.

"Come on. Let's get this ceremony started. You will stand behind the podium that is set up while President Aalto speaks. He will say a bit about one of you, then give the correct awards to the person he just talked about. Then he will go back to the podium, and speak about the next person and give them their medals until he is through all four of you. Then the Queen will speak briefly and do the same, awarding each of you with your awards from Denmark." He explained, leading us up to the front of the building. We stood in a line on the left side of the podium, and awaited President Aalto to begin the ceremony.

The President stepped up to the podium and the area fell silent, so that he could speak.

"There are times when a man must step up and serve his nation." He began. "He must place himself in a uniform and boots, and carry a weapon onto the battlefield without hesitation. He must forget his obligations outside of the war, and fight for his honor, for his country, for himself. We have honored many in our history, but the four men standing here in uniform today," the President motioned with his hand to Mathias, Lukas, Berwald, and I. "are to be honored here today in a way that has not happened in such a long time. These four men are all of different nationality; and one of them isn't even a soldier."

"The civilian of these four, is Lukas Joachim Bondevik, a Norwegian doctor whom at the age of twenty-four has faced a challenge like no other. He left his home country at the beginning of this war to aid the Swedish Armed Forces, due to a lack of medics in the Northern parts of the nation. He did not fight for them, or support their cause in any way. He simply did his job as a doctor, and helped heal those whom were injured, no matter whom they were or what they had done. When Finnish soldiers were captured, he did not allow the Swedes to harm them any further, and healed them in whatever way he could. When the third attack on Pajala was initiated, he was in Camp Låssmed, despite having been warned that heavy casualties would be taken during the attack. When the helicopter crashed into the camp while Finnish and Danish Forces were holding the Swedes down, he was injured, but disregarded his own pain in favor of going out and saving the life of another man, whom was mere moments away from death. He went to Oulu with these three men, whom were all involved in the attack, and was treated for his wounds. Once he was treated, he was given jurisdiction to watch over the recovery of the man he had saved the life of. For his actions, Lukas Bondevik is receiving the Cross of Merit of the Order of the Lion of Finland, for his respect for those whom serve all nations, and for his abilities of saving the lives of others even when he himself is in danger." The President turned around and approached Lukas, carrying a small box. He removed the medal from the box, and pinned it to the left side of the Norwegian's uniform coat. President Aalto then shook hands with Lukas, who thanked him quietly. An applause was given, making the normally stoic Norwegian smile in gratitude.

The President returned to the podium and the applause died down, thus allowing him to speak.

"The next man, already has many medals of merit upon his uniform. Mathias Køhler, the Generalløjtnant of the Danish Defence and leader of the Danish Defence working in Finland, is a decorated young man at the age of twenty-five, whom I believe didn't quite know what he was getting into when he decided to participate in the attack on Pajala. He, like many, was injured in the attack by the crashing helicopter. His knee was shattered by debris, but that is not only why he is receiving this award. He is brave and daring, and never hesitated on the battlefield. When the Finns were going to infiltrate Camp Låssmed, he faithfully worked with the soldiers to use the correct tactics and planning to hold down the Swedes until his reinforcements made their way down. He showed an astounding amount of leadership that day, and is receiving the First Class Medal of the White Rose of Finland for it." The President turned around and went to Mathias, box in hand. He opened it and removed the medal, pinning it next to the other awards that already adorned Mathias' uniform. He then shook hands with the Dane, who grinned and thanked him. An applause was given for the Generalløjtnant, who stood there with pride. He was obviously no stranger to merit.

The President returned to the podium as the applause quieted and eventually stopped. He then began to speak once again.

"The third man is surprisingly a Swedish man, whom betrayed his own nation in order to save the man he loved. Berwald Oxenstierna, twenty-four year old former Överstelöjtnant of the Swedish Armed Forces, defended Finnish Armed Forces and fought for us in the most brave of ways. He led our men through the Pajala area, and aided them in their times of confusion. He knows how unjust this war is, an that his army is wrong for fighting it, and that led to his injuries in the war. He was beaten savagely by his own men three separate times, but still stood up against them to save the one he loved, and to support Finnish operations. He is receiving the Cross of Merit of the White Rose of Finland and the Cross of Merit of the Order of the Lion of Finland for his dedication to an army that isn't even of his nation." The President turned around to Berwald, holding two boxes this time. He removed a medal from the first box and pinned it to Berwald's uniform coat, which I presumed once bared medals of merit from his home country that were stripped from his possession. The President then removed the second medal from it's case and pinned it right beside the other, before shaking hands with the Swede. Berwald thanked him, nodding slightly. The third applause of the ceremony was given, and when the President returned to the podium, it died down.

Now it was my turn to receive my awards. My heart beat out of anxiety and sweat formed on my forehead even with the light snow falling from the sky.

"The fourth and final man receiving awards today is Tino Väinämöinen, a native of Helsinki, and one of the bravest, strongest men I have ever encountered. When this man joined the war, he was stationed at Camp Rawhide, by the Finnish-Swedish border. He saw little to no action, but then got the order to support Finnish forces in the first attack in Pajala. When in the helicopter over Pajala, it was shot by a rocket-propelled grenade round from a Swede on the ground in the city. His helicopter crashed to the ground, but he survived with no injuries. Once out of the wreckage, he was ordered to clear out hostile Swedes from a building. And so he did, without hesitation. He got to the second floor of the building, where a large gap was. After eliminating the Swedes in the room, he saluted to his fellow soldiers. But Tino didn't know that Berwald, whom was still with the Swedes at the time, was still there. Berwald tackled him out of the building, crashing down two stories right onto the concrete. Tino fractured a vertebra in his back upon landing, and was later captured by the Swedes. Lukas, the medic in Camp Låssmed, was the one whom figured out about Tino's injury. During the second attack on Camp Låssmed by Finnish Forces, Tino managed to escape in the chaos. He was taken back to Camp Rawhide, where he met Mathias. The two learned that they both had lovers in Camp Låssmed; Berwald being Tino's and Lukas being Mathias'. They went out on a daring mission to warn their lovers of the attack that would happen during the next day, and were captured shortly after telling Lukas of the Finnish and Danish plans of attack. They were taken to a prison-like tent, and tossed into cages. Berwald was in the cage next to Tino's, beaten and battered by the men whom he had once commanded. He removed Tino's zip-tie handcuffs and was able to communicate with him for a few moments before a group of Swedes entered. One of the Swedes had intentions of killing Tino, and took out a pistol when he entered the cage of our fellow Finn. Mathias managed to distract the man so that his aim was off when he pointed the gun at Tino's head, so when the first shot was fired it struck the side of Tino's neck. A second shot was fired not long after, and it struck his shoulder. The Swede picked Tino up off the ground and placed the gun under his chin. Before Tino could be killed, Lukas entered the tent and pulled the gun from the Swede's hand. The Swede let go of Tino and Lukas explained why the three in the cages did not deserve what was happening to them. Tino, Mathias, and Berwald were released, but Tino was injured, and bleeding heavily. Lukas had him taken over to the medical barracks, where a rough surgery was performed, which ultimately saved Tino's life. When Tino, Berwald, and Mathias were allowed to go back to Camp Rawhide, Lukas stayed behind. Tino, despite his injuries, was forced to participate in the third attack on Camp Låssmed. He valiantly fought with all his heart the day of the attack, getting to the camp even with his injuries. When the infiltration of the camp was ordered, Tino was left without cover from the fire coming from the Swedes, so he laid on the ground and did what he could to fight back. When Danish reinforcements arrived, and that helicopter crashed, killing most in the camp, Tino survived it uninjured. He stood and walked towards the center of camp where the Swedes had been in cover. When he got close enough, a Swede sprung from his cover and overpowered Tino, stabbing him in the stomach with a knife. Tino watched as the man started to retreat, but was attacked by Berwald whom was desperate to get revenge on the man whom had stabbed his lover. Berwald though, ended up with the man he attacked sitting on top of him and beating the life from him. Tino, out of the will to not let the last thing he saw be an allied soldier dying, gripped the handle of the knife in his stomach with one hand, and began to pull it out. After a few moments, he brought his other hand up and used as much strength as he could to force himself through the pain and get the knife out. Once he was successful in removing the knife, he took in his hand and aimed for the soldier on top of Berwald. Tino then threw knife, killing the man by hitting him right in the neck. Laying on the ground, bleeding to death, Tino felt his life slipping away. Berwald rushed over and cradled his wounded lover in his arms. But no matter what he did, he couldn't prevent the moment when Tino fell unconscious in his arms. Lukas soon appeared out of the nearby medical tent, rushing to save the life of the Finn. Tino was taken to Oulu, where an emergency surgery was initiated to save his life. After two days of being unconscious after the surgery, Tino awoke for the first time after nearly dying. He could breathe and move on his own, and spent a few days in recovery with Lukas aiding him as his doctor, and Berwald and Mathias there to encourage him. For everything this man has done, he is receiving a total of four awards from his home country of Finland. The 1st Class and 2nd Class Medal of Liberty, the 1st Class Medal of the White Rose of Finland with the Golden Cross, and the Knight, First Class, of the Order of the Lion of Finland." The President removed four medals from their boxes before approaching me.

He, with nimble fingers, pinned the four medals on my uniform coat. I stood there proudly, already smiling. Once finished, President Aalto and I shook hands. I grinned.

"Thank you, sir. It is an honor to be receiving these medals." I said.

"You're welcome, Tino. It is an honor to award you with them." He responded, smiling at me. A loud applause was given by the crowd, obviously due to the fact that I was Finnish and receiving so much merit for my actions. And the ceremony wasn't even over.

President Aalto went back up to the podium after the applause died down.

"Now, we have Her Majesty, Queen Margrethe II of Denmark, here to award these four men with their medals from Denmark." He said, helping the elderly monarch up the steps to the podium. She smiled and began to speak.

"These four men have done far more than the call of their countries asked them to do, and for their actions, bestowed upon them by the Kingdom of Denmark's government and I, are receiving medals of merit. All four; Lukas, Mathias, Berwald, and Tino, are receiving the Defense Medal for Bravery." She removed four medals from their boxes and went down the line, placing one of the medals upon the chests of Lukas, Berwald, Mathias, and mine's ceremonial uniforms. She stepped back up to the podium, and began to speak once again.

"Tino Väinämöinen is receiving a very special honor from the Kingdom of Denmark; he has had a medal classified under his name, which he is receiving. The Defense Medal for International Service in Sweden, Väinämöinen Class. There is no award in my mind that could honor his form of bravery and strength in this harrowing time of war, so without further ado, I present him with his namesake medal. The Defense Medal for International Service in Sweden, Väinämöinen Class." She turned and walked over to me, carrying a medal with a red ribbon. The medal was a gold cross with a silver V in the center, with a silver star behind the gold cross. So this was my medal.

She delicately pinned it to my uniform coat, and I grinned, bowing my head to the elderly woman.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." I said.

"You're welcome, Väinämöinen. You deserve this honor." She replied, shaking my hand. She retreated back to the group of Danish guards whom were designated to protect her, and President Aalto stepped up to the podium once again.

"That concludes the awards ceremony; now we have a formal promotion of Tino Väinämöinen from his current rank of Private 1st Class, to a more distinguished rank of Lieutenant. He will then receive his documentation of honorable discharge, for he can no longer fight in the war with the injuries he received." The President turned to the General whom was standing off to the side, carrying a small box with a glass cover on the top. He opened the box and removed a Velcro patch, which was the insignia of Lieutenant.

President Aalto then approached me, placing the insignia on the shoulder of my uniform, where a small Velcro patch was located. We shook hands once again, both of us smiling. The General then walked up with a framed document, handing it to the president.

"I, the President of Finland Esa Aalto, hereby award you with the documentation of honorable discharge from the military. Lieutenant Tino Väinämöinen, you now are a veteran of the Finnish Armed Forces, and are no longer required to serve in the military. Thank you for your service to your nation and to your people." He said, placing the framed document in my hands. I read over the words of the document, choking up. A few tears formed in my eyes, and I reached up to wipe them away. The President and the General smiled, President Aalto patting my shoulder.

"You are young, Tino. You have a long life ahead of you. Enjoy the rest of your life. You have changed the face of the war for good, and have changed the face of the Finnish Armed Forces. This is my personal thanks, from me to you." He spoke quietly.

"Y-You're welcome, sir." I responded, smiling up at the Finnish man. He dropped his hand from my shoulder, and we shook hands once again, before he returned to the podium.

"This concludes our ceremonies today. We ask the media to clear a path so that these four men can get through and head to their respective places."

ooo

When Berwald and I managed to get up to Camp Låssmed, we were received very well by the soldiers stationed there. Mathias and Lukas had come with us, of course. Our little group was inseparable.

I looked around, studying the camp. When I had last seen it, there was a crashed helicopter in the center, a Swedish flag raised, and it had been strewn with bodies. Now it was repaired and cleaned; new tents had been erected where the damaged ones once stood, and no bodies lay around on the ground. A Finnish flag was also raised on the flagpole, waving in the chilly winter wind.

As I approached the spot where I had nearly bled to death, I noticed a gleaming plaque in the concrete. I crouched down and cleared away the snow with the side of my hand, and read the silver, engraved plaque.

"This spot is where Tino Väinämöinen received his fourth injury in the war between Sweden and Finland in 2014, and eliminated the final Swede in Camp Låssmed. He is forever engraved in history for his actions, and will never be forgotten by his country for his valor." I read, smiling.

"That's surely the truth." Lukas said. I stood and sighed, looking around.

"Let's get out of here. We don't belong here anymore." I replied.

"You got that right." Mathias commented.

"So what was that you were talking to Berwald about when we were in Camp Rawhide this morning?" I questioned the Dane.

"Well, once we get back in Finland, I'll tell you." He responded, smiling.

ooo

We ended up heading to Oulu, and deciding to spend the night in a hotel before going our separate ways in the morning. Lukas, and I were in our room; which we were to share with our lovers of course, that had two beds, a bathroom, and one hell of a view off the balcony of the waters of the Gulf of Bothnia. Mathias was out to town with Berwald. For what reason was beyond me.

Lukas and I stared out at the water, sitting in chairs on the balcony. We were in civilian clothing now, not wanting to wear our ceremonial uniforms any longer.

"What do you think they're doing?" Lukas asked, looking to me.

"I have absolutely no clue." I replied. "Berwald probably just went along due to the fact that Mathias would probably get himself hurt on those crutches."

Lukas chuckled a bit. "Yeah… Mathias is pretty clumsy. It's beyond me how that man managed to become the Generalløjtnant of the Danish Defence."

"Same here."

Just then, the balcony door was opened behind us, obviously meaning Berwald and Mathias were back.

Mathias affectionately wrapped his arms around Lukas from behind the chair, setting his crutches aside on the wall.

"Hey Luke, stand up for a moment, will ya?" He asked. Lukas nodded and stood, and Mathias moved the plastic chair out from between them.

"You guys said you wanted to know what Berwald and I talked about, right? Well, here it is." He said. Berwald took a seat in the chair next to me and smiled. I watched as the Danish man before us went down on one knee in front of Lukas.

"Lukas Bondevik," the Dane pulled a ring from his pocket. "Will you marry me?"

Lukas was stunned, obviously. I watched as tears formed in the Norwegian's eyes, and he nodded.

"Of course, Mathias." He said. Mathias grinned and stood, even with his injured knee, taking Lukas' left hand and slipping the ring on the younger man's ring finger. The two embraced each other, sharing a passionate kiss. Lukas pulled away a bit and grabbed one of Mathias' crutch, handing it to the Dane.

"Stop putting weight on your knee, you dumbass. You'll hurt yourself worse." He said, unable to clear the grin from his face and the tears from his eyes. Mathias laughed a bit and slipped the crutch under his arm, nodding.

"Of course, doc." He said, placing a kiss on the Norwegian man's lips once again.

"Get a room, you two." I teased. Both Lukas and Mathias laughed a bit.

"Oh God, you big oaf… I love you too much for my own good." Lukas muttered, wrapping his arms around Mathias and leaning his head on the older man's chest.

"I love you too, Luke. I love you too." Mathias responded.

Later that night, Lukas and Mathias had gone to sleep, and I was unable to fall asleep, laying there in bed alone. Berwald was standing outside in the biting cold, by himself.

I pondered why he was out there, so I wrapped my blanket around myself and headed out onto the balcony.

"… What're you doing out here, Berwald? It's freezing." I said, coming up beside my tall Swedish lover.

"… I feel bad." He replied, quietly.

"For what?" I questioned.

"We're in love, right?"

"Well… I would hope so."

"It's been five years since we got together… And yet I haven't had th' guts to ask y' t' marry m'…"

I sighed a bit and smiled.

"Don't rush yourself, Berwald. We've got all the time in the world… I don't need a ring on my finger to know that you love me."

"But…"

"Listen here, Berwald. We've known each other for seven years, and have been together for five of those seven. If you think that I don't love you, then you are horribly wrong. I've survived every wound that I've gotten just so we can be together. I know that our path together has been rocky, but I don't need a ring to get those rocks off the path. I just need you to be by my side."

"Y' know I'll be with y' forever… No matter who or what tries t' tear us apart…" He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.

"That's all I need to know, Berwald." I replied. "That's all I need to know."


End file.
